


Over

by AngelaFaye11



Series: Under Series [2]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Capable Bright, Case Fic, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sequel, Sexual Content, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaFaye11/pseuds/AngelaFaye11
Summary: Sequel to "Under" (must read to follow plot)Malcolm, Dani, and the rest of the team deal with the fallout of the events that occurred while they were undercover with a notorious criminal organization.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Series: Under Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832437
Comments: 91
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! So excited for this! If you haven't read "Under" exit this fic and do so. Or go back and read the last chapter if you need a refresher. Otherwise you'll be very confused.  
> Hope you like it! Let me know what you think in the comments folks.

Malcolm looked down at his phone after it vibrated. 

_There was a text message from a sender without a number. It was simply listed as ”UNKNOWN”._

**_I know what you did._ **

_Almost immediately, a video appeared under the message. He made sure his phone was on silent before clicking it. As soon as it started, Malcolm’s blood ran cold. There he was, on the deck of Bennet’s boat, Luca on his knees, as he pulled the trigger. His hands started shaking as he fast forwarded, praying it cut off before, but it didn’t. Bile creeped up his throat, as he watched the Malcolm in the video raise Bennet’s gun and pull the trigger. Ezra’s body fell backward and Malcolm exited the video, unable to watch any more of it._

_The video looked to be filmed from another boat a few slips over from Bennet’s. Someone else had been there, had witnessed the whole thing. He knew he couldn’t panic. Not in front of Dani. He stared at the text message for a moment, trying to calm himself enough to pass as normal._

_Dani looked up at him, “Everything okay?”_

_Malcolm immediately locked his phone, and forced a smile, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”_

* * *

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

“Okay. Let’s break here for a minute,” Malcolm slowed his pace from a steady jog to a walk. Dani, however, did not. “Dani,” he said her name like a father warning a child she was about to get in trouble. Her pace slowed and her head, powered by an impressive eye roll, flopped backward. He grinned at her obstinance. 

She turned around and put her hand on her hip, “It’s been half a mile, Bright.”

“Rest,” he ordered, pointing at the bench between them.

The morning sun was beaming down on them, as they sat looking out at the harbor. Battery Park had become their accidental morning tradition, since Dani had gotten the clear to advance to light jogging. Other than the ferries to Liberty Island, which were prepping for the day’s first round of tourists, at this time of the morning, the park was primarily populated with other joggers. As he always did, Malcolm covertly watched Dani’s every move while they rested. He paid particular attention to her breaths, making sure they didn’t sound too labored, or shallow. 

Nothing made him happier than the fact that Dani was making an incredible recovery. It had only been seven weeks since the worst day of his entire life, since he held her in his arms, blood pouring from her wound, as she took what he thought were her last breaths. And now she was jogging around The Battery with him every morning, itching to go further and run faster. Malcolm watched her as she checked her stats on her watch. 

“You’re watching me again,” she informed, never looking up from her watch. 

He grinned and turned his gaze to the water. There was no point in denying it; watching her was second nature at this point. That particular habit started long before they went undercover with Ezra Bennet, though. 

“I talked to Gil yesterday,” Dani continued to fiddle with her watch as she spoke, “I’ve got an appointment to get cleared for desk duty in two days.”

Malcolm turned in shock, his brows furrowed, “What?”

She finally looked up at him, “I know you think I’m not ready yet, but I am. If I don’t get back to work soon, I’m going to lose my mind.” She paused for a moment, trying to read his reaction, “Sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time.” Somehow Dani managed to look both apologetic and unwavering at the same time. 

He leaned in and gently kissed her, their lips barely touching. “I know you’re ready.” Then, he leaned back against the bench and watched a cargo ship in the distance. “Honestly, it’s me that’s not ready.” 

“I’ll be okay. Gill will probably have me pushing papers for a month anyway. At least it will be something to do.” She leaned into him and he picked up his arm, wrapping it around her. 

“I’d give anything to be able to work a case right now,” he admitted, brushing her upper arm with his thumb. “When you go back, there won’t be anything for me to focus on. I’ve still got four and a half months of exile left.” 

Dani giggled, “Exile? Feeling a bit dramatic this morning, are we?” 

“Maybe a little,” he smiled, kissing the top of her head. “Just promise me one thing,” when she sat up attentively he finished, “You have nothing to prove to anyone. Listen to what your body is telling you.” 

She jumped up off of the bench and extended her hand, agreeing, “I promise.” 

Malcolm took it and stood as well. To his surprise, Dani pulled him into another kiss. He didn’t even consciously respond to her, his body just did it automatically. Before he knew it, one arm was around her waist and the other was at the back of her head. Every part of him reacted to her at once. 

Before the kiss got too heated, Dani pulled back, “In the spirit of honoring this new promise, you should know that my body is definitely telling me something right now.” 

“Is that so?” he laughed. 

“Oh yeah,” she leaned into his ear and whispered, “and we both know yours is too.” As soon as she’d finished the sentence, Dani turned and jogged back in the direction of the apartment. 

“You realize I have to jog back, right?”

Her laugh was audible even from a distance, “Yep!”

“That’s just cruel,” he muttered as he followed, uncomfortably, behind her. 

* * *

Malcolm dumped the bowl of eggs into the skillet and sprinkled onions, mushrooms, and peppers onto them afterward. What was meant to be breakfast had now become lunch. As soon as the apartment door shut behind them after their run, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Dani had only recently been approved for that particular brand of exercise and she was clearly keen to make up for a month’s worth of lost time. Not that he was complaining.

He smiled as he flipped the omelette in the pan, replaying the morning’s extracurriculars in his head. 

“What’s that look for?” Dani surprised him, leaning against the wall in a towel. The scar below her collarbone, the exit wound from Bennet’s shot, was still a bright pink. Malcolm knew every millimeter of it without looking, as well as its companion: the entry wound on her back. The third of the trio, a scar from the chest tube that drained the blood from her lung, was hidden about three inches below where the towel wrapped around her right side. Dani had never once been self conscious of them, as well she shouldn’t. She had jokingly told him that they were her involuntary tattoos. She called them her reminders- of how lucky she was to be alive, of how swiftly that can change. 

The smile on Malcolm’s face widened, “Just thinking.” 

“About?” she pried. 

“You.” 

One of her eyebrows raised, “About earlier, you mean.”

“Both are true,” he laughed, sliding the omelette onto a plate. “Perfect timing.”

Dani hopped up into the closest bar chair at the island and pulled the food toward her. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her mouth full of egg. 

“You’re welcome.” Malcolm watched her eat a few bites, then started cleaning up the used cookware. 

“Oh by the way, my mom asked if we could meet her for dinner tonight. There’s a new Italian place a few blocks away from her she’s been wanting to try. Also, this is delicious.” 

He turned from the sink and leaned on the counter across from her, “Again, you’re welcome. And Italian sounds great.” 

Dani was already texting her mother the response. “7:00 okay?” 

“Perfect.” 

* * *

Watching Dani interact with her mother was always entertaining. They had suffered through a great loss together and relied on each other in equal measure, despite Dani’s age at the time. With that came a bond that was like nothing he had ever witnessed before. Michelle Powell respected and adored Dani, not just as a mother would her daughter, but as a peer, and a protector. He knew there were times that adolescent Dani had been the only thing keeping her mother going, making sure she had eaten, paid the bills, even bathed. The two of them had seen each other at their lowest and helped the other survive. 

Now, as they sat at dinner, Malcolm couldn’t keep from perpetually smiling. The love that radiated off the two of them was infectious, as was their laughter. 

Michelle was in the middle of telling Malcolm about a night in which Dani had snuck out and attempted to return to the apartment via the fire escape, when he felt his phone buzz repeatedly in his breast pocket. He ignored it, laughing through the rest of the hilarious tale, which ended in fourteen-year-old Dani forgetting that their fire escape led into her mother’s bedroom and not hers. 

“In my defense,” Dani began.

“Oh no. There’s no defense for that,” Malcolm interjected, as Michelle wiped tears from laughing so hard. 

Again, his phone buzzed. This time he pulled it out and checked it. Two missed calls from an unknown number. He thought nothing of it and was in the middle of deleting the notifications, when a text message appeared. It, too, was from an unknown number. 

**Do they know?**

A second later a picture popped up, of the three of them laughing at the table. Malcolm’s blood ran cold. It couldn’t have been taken more than a few seconds ago. Immediately, he started scanning the room, profiling everyone he saw. He tried to do so covertly enough that his companions wouldn’t notice, but Dani had been watching him since he took out his phone. She knew. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a low voice. Her mother knew that tone and looked over at Malcolm with concern. 

He glanced up at Dani apologetically, “We need to go.” 

She was about to pry further when Michelle interrupted, “No questions, Danielle. Let’s go.” 

The three of them stood. Malcolm pulled out his wallet and quickly tossed two, hundred dollar bills on the table both to make sure he covered a well-deserved tip and as an apology for leaving without notice. Then, they swiftly exited the restaurant. 

“Right,” he ordered once they reached the sidewalk. 

Michelle obeyed without a second thought, Dani close behind. 

“What’s going on, Malcolm?” she asked, eyeing everyone they passed. 

“Not now,” he had already pulled out his phone and was dialing. “Hey. I need a favor. Yeah. I’ll text you the details.”

“At least tell us where we’re going.” 

“Your mom’s place.” 

“Is that safe?” At Dani’s inquiry, Michelle stopped to look at him.

“It will be,” he assured, urging them to continue. 

Once they were inside Michelle’s apartment, Malcolm set out checking every room and closet. “Lock the door,” he instructed. 

Michelle sat down on the edge of her sofa. Dani was standing next to her, attempting to comfort her when he returned from his sweep. 

“Bright, what is this?” 

He sat on the coffee table in front of Michelle and addressed her first, “Mrs. Powell, I’m sorry for frightening you.” 

“Malcolm, what the hell is going on?!” Dani’s voice got progressively louder with the question. 

He stood, “I promise, I’ll explain when I get back.” 

“Where are you going?” Her eyes were full of worry and frustration. 

“It’s too much to explain right now. But I promise you, we will talk when I return. Okay?” 

“Why do I feel like there’s a solid chance you’re about to do something stupid?” 

He chuckled, “For once in my life, I’m not. I’m going to do what I should have done in the first place.” 

“What does that even mean?”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, “Later. Stay here until you hear from me.” His phone buzzed again, “Perfect. JT is out front keeping watch. Please. Stay here, so I know you’re safe.” 

“And how will I know you’re safe?”

At that, Malcolm kissed her softly on the lips, “I’ll be back soon,” and left. 

* * *

The buzzer for Lieutenant Arroyo’s apartment still said “Gil & Jackie”. Malcolm’s heart warmed at the thought of how many times she’d answered when he pushed this button. It didn’t matter the hour or the circumstances, there was a permanent open-door policy at this home. A large part of him wished Jackie would be the one answering now. She always knew how to make difficult conversations more comfortable. 

It was almost 10 o’clock, not nearly as late as his adolescent house calls had been. Yet, somehow the profiler suddenly felt like that scared teenager, running to his surrogate family for help. For fourteen days he had wrestled with the idea of going to Gil. When no other messages came, he foolishly started to believe that the whole ordeal might blow over. Telling Gil about the messages and the video, meant he was giving a lieutenant in the NYPD undeniable proof that he had shot Bennet in cold blood. An honest, moral lieutenant, who would, and should, be compelled to report what he knew. He loathed the idea of putting Gil and himself in that position. But, there was no other choice; people he loved were being threatened now as well. He raised his hand to the button and hesitated, then pushed.

After a brief pause, Gil’s staticky voice answered, “Yeah?” 

“It’s Bright--” Before he could finish the sentence, the door buzzed. Malcolm grinned, grateful that the response hadn’t changed in twenty years. 

When he reached the apartment door, it was already cracked open. He entered, and made his way toward the kitchen. Gil was standing at his counter, drink in hand. As soon as Malcolm turned the corner, the lieutenant picked up the second glass from the counter and extended it to him. 

Bright accepted it from him gratefully and immediately took a sip. 

Gil watched him silently, waiting. When his son couldn’t find the words to start, he spoke first, “What do you need to tell me?” 

Malcolm took a much larger drink from his glass, before looking up at his mentor and letting out a sigh. “Two weeks ago I received a text message from an unknown sender.” Gil sat his glass down and straightened attentively. “It said ‘I know what you did’. It was accompanied by a video from the marina that--”

“Stop.” 

The command surprised Malcolm, who stared at him quizzically.

“Don’t finish that sentence and keep the video to yourself.” Gil read his teammate’s face again and explained further, “I can’t hold you accountable for what I haven’t seen or heard.”

Bright nodded and continued, “I didn’t respond and nothing else was sent, until tonight. I was at dinner with Dani and Michelle, when I got this.” He opened the picture of the three of them laughing at the table and showed Gil his phone. “The text said ‘Do they know?’”

“So, someone has video evidence of,” the lieutenant held up his hand, “whatever it is that went down at the marina. Have they threatened to release it? Made any demands?”

“That’s the thing. Not a word.” Malcolm paced the kitchen as he explained. “Honestly, I wish they would, at least then I’d know the endgame. Right now they’re just taunting me. And apparently stalking as well.” 

Gil took a drink, “You should have come to me with this when you got the first message, kid.” 

Malcolm looked up at him, contrite, “I know.” 

“That being said, we need to get ahead of it, figure out who’s behind it. And you,” he pointed at Bright, “are still banished from the precinct, which isn’t helpful.” 

He couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough. 

_Four and a half more months._

A few moments of silence passed as both men attempted to come up with a plan. Finally, Gil cleared his throat, “Okay. Go back to your place. Have Dani stay with her mom tonight, just in case. I’ll get a uni to replace JT on watch there. He and I will head to the precinct and do some digging, then we will reconvene at your place first thing in the morning.” 

Malcolm shook his head, “Okay.” 

“You better have some strong-ass coffee ready when we get there. Come on, I’ll give you a ride back to your place.” 

* * *

Malcolm didn’t sleep much. While his mind had been racing since Gil dropped him off, he had a sneaking suspicion that the absence of Dani beside him played more of a part in his lack of rest. She had begrudgingly agreed to stay with her mother last night, but made it very clear that he had a lot of explaining to do when next they saw each other. A fate he knew he deserved and one that would likely increase in severity once he told her the rest of the story. 

Waking up at 4:45 had its advantages. He managed to go on a paranoid jog, take a shower, and run to the coffee shop a few blocks down the street before Gil and JT arrived. They brought with them, a box of files and a laptop. 

Malcolm gratefully handed each of them a cup of coffee as they started unpacking the files onto the island counter, “Anything thus far?” 

JT shook his head, “Nothing that stands out in particular. We started our search with the marina. From the looks of it, that the video of--”

“Hey. Hey. Hey,” Gil interrupted, waving his hands back and forth.

“I was going to say ‘what happened on the yacht’, looks to have been filmed from two or three rows away. There’s at least one boat between them and you. But, that could mean one or more empty slips between as well. These,” he pulled a sizable stack of files out of the box, “are the names of everyone with a slip rented at the marina. I figure we should start there first. Cross reference any of these names with people who have association with the Niners.” 

“Sounds good,” Malcolm picked up a file and started looking through it. The other two men did the same. 

An hour and ten minutes later, they were no closer to figuring out who was behind this than when they’d started. JT’s phone rang; Gil and Malcolm used it as a good excuse to put their files down for a minute. “Tarmel,” he answered, “Okay thanks.” After he hung up he opened up the laptop, “Soto says he might have something. Sent me a file.” JT clicked a few times and his eyes widened, “Whoa.” 

“What?” Gil and Malcolm asked in unison. 

He turned the laptop toward them. It was a mugshot. A woman with caramel skin, amber eyes, and long jet black hair stared back at them. “Joslynn Bennet was released from Lincoln Correctional thirty-six hours ago.” 

“Released? How?” Gil was incredulous. 

JT turned the computer back around and read the details aloud, “Inmate was cleared and released after new testimony was brought before the judge.” He scrolled down further and cursed under his breath.

“What?” Malcolm begged.

“Luca Morales testified before a judge that he set her up. He said he had a confrontation with Ezra and wanted revenge. He heard from a C.I. the sting was going down and he set it up so that Joslynn would be there. Claims he’s felt guilty for it ever since and couldn’t live with himself any longer knowing he put an innocent pregnant woman in prison.” 

“That’s got to be it,” Malcolm rubbed his temples with his fingers. 

“Are we sure? You said you got the first messages two weeks ago,” Gil played devil’s advocate for a moment. 

“I shot her husband,” he was careful to choose his words wisely, “He died because of me. It has to be related. Luca knew he was going away for a long time, assault and attempted murder of an officer, stealing the cartridges. He was protecting the matriarch.”

Even Gil couldn’t argue the logic there. 

“Or,” JT added, “She made the call. What if she’s running the organization now in Ezra’s absence?”

Malcolm agreed, his head still in his hands, “It’s not unheard of.” 

_Shit_. 

His head popped up as the realization hit him. 

“What?” Gil implored, as JT stared at him completely confused. 

“Damian.” 

“Damian?” JT repeated the name as a question.

“It’s all connected: Luca’s confession, Damian’s change in testimony at my plea hearing. Joslynn gave the order. She wanted me out.” 

Again, Gil offered the counter argument, “Why would she want you out though? You were a fish in a barrel in gen pop: a cop with a fresh stab wound. They could have easily taken you out if they wanted.” 

“They almost did,” Malcolm retorted, before remembering he hadn’t shared that story with his would-be-father yet. 

Gil was genuinely shocked at the confession. 

“I was probably seconds away from getting beaten to death at breakfast, when the guard came to get me for the hearing. I could barely move, there were too many of them, I’d just had surgery, there was no way I was going to survive that. But that’s the thing. They had already set me up as violating by bail restrictions. I was going right back to The Tombs once the hearing was over and they could have finished the job. Why get me out? To try and torture me with information? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“No it doesn’t. But I think you’re right. This all has to be related somehow,” Gil affirmed. 

As Gil finished his sentence the lock on the apartment door turned. All three of the men jumped at the sound and turned toward it. 

Dani entered and immediately froze at the sight of her team in their kitchen. Her gaze slowly scanned the stacks of files and the computer on the counter. Then she met each of their eyes before stopping on Malcolm’s and raising her eyebrows and tilting her head accusingly. 

He licked his lips while, nodding in agreement with her silent demand, “We need to talk.”


	2. Chapter 2

_ Dani entered and immediately froze at the sight of her team in their kitchen. Her gaze slowly scanned the stacks of files and the computer on the counter. Then, she met each of their eyes before stopping on Malcolm’s and raising her eyebrows, tilting her head accusingly.  _

_ He licked his lips while nodding in agreement with her silent demand, “We need to talk.”  _

* * *

Dani stared through narrowed eyes at Malcolm, clearly filtering her thoughts for the present company.

Gil read the room quickly, “JT and I should check in at the precinct. We can touch base after lunch.” 

Malcolm nodded and showed them to the door. Once he shut it, he turned, looking up at Dani in contrition. 

“How bad is it?” The anger he expected was practically absent. Instead, fear colored every word Dani had spoken.

“Bad,” he admitted. 

She swallowed and took a slow, deep breath, “Like seven weeks ago ‘bad’?”

Malcolm stared at the place where Dani’s scar rested beneath her shirt. 

_ Please, just a little longer.  _ Her body twitching in his arms, before going completely limp, lifeless. 

“Bright?”

_ Come back. Come back. _

Dani reached out and took his hand; the contact pulled him from the memory. His eyes refocused and found hers. 

“Nothing could ever compare to that,” he whispered.

Malcolm took her face in his hands and kissed her, as though he was trying to confirm her existence. He did this from time to time, to placate his irrational fear: that Dani hadn’t actually survived and this reality was all a fabricated delusion his mind created to keep from tearing itself apart.

Although, it stood to logic that if this was all a delusion of happiness meant to keep him from losing his sanity, he probably wouldn’t be getting threatened by the wife of a man he’d…

_ Murdered _ , his psyche finished. 

Tugging her hand, Malcolm led Dani to the couch and sat across from her. He ran his hands through his hair before beginning. 

“Two weeks ago I got a text message that said ‘I know what you did’. There was a video attached to it, a video of me… shooting Bennet.” 

“Two weeks ago?” Dani’s eyes widened, “You’ve been dealing with this for two weeks and you didn’t tell me?” 

“That was wrong of me. I was afraid the stress would hinder your recovery. But, that’s not a valid excuse. I know that.”

His remorse seemed to stunt her anger, “What else?”

“Until last night, nothing. There hadn’t been any additional contact. The message I got at dinner asked if you and your mother ‘knew’ and there was a picture of the three of us laughing at dinner.” 

“What?” 

“That’s why we left so quickly. Someone in that restaurant was watching us.” 

Dani started picking at the hem of her shirt, something she did absent-mindedly if she was anxious. 

“I went to Gil last night. I knew if he saw the video’s contents, he would have to report it.” 

Dani interrupted his explanation, terrified, “Is he going to?”

Malcolm shook his head, “He refused to watch it. Said he couldn’t hold me accountable for what he hasn’t seen or heard me confess.” 

She grinned, thankful. 

“This morning JT and Gil showed up with all this,” he gestured toward the stacks of files on the island counter, “Right before you came home, I think we figured it out.” 

She stared at him expectantly, her heart racing. 

“Josylnn Bennet was released from prison a day and a half ago.” 

After her mouth popped open, Dani spoke, “How the hell did that happen?”

“Luca claimed he set her up. Some story about trying to get back at Bennet after an argument. He knew he was going to be locked up for a long time and he took the fall for her on the way inside.” 

“And you think she’s the one behind the messages?” 

“I think it’s our best option at this point. I also think she’s the reason Damian changed his testimony.”

Dani scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, “You think she wanted you on the outside?” 

“I do.” 

“Why?”

Malcolm leaned back and rubbed his eyes, “That, I don’t know.” 

The two of them sat in silence, Dani attempting to reconcile all the information she had just been given and Malcolm desperately trying to figure out why he was sitting in his apartment and not in a jail cell.

After ten minutes of processing, Dani stood, went to the fridge, and returned with a bottle of water for each of them. 

“So, what’s the plan?” She stood behind him, looking down at his face, as his head rested on the back of the couch. 

“I have no idea. None of these messages have come with demands or any information as to what their point is. I don’t know if this is extortion or if they’re just screwing with me before they send the video to the police.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I can’t shake the feeling that I haven’t spent my last night in a prison cell.”

Dani walked around the couch and sat in front of him on the coffee table. “Don’t talk like that. Look at me,” she rested her hands on his knees. “We have overcome too much to start losing faith now. After everything we’ve been through the universe owes us a little something.” 

Malcolm looked up at her, genuinely frightened, “That’s what I’m afraid of.” When Dani stared at him, confused, he continued, “That this is justice from the universe, penance for what I did on that boat. For…” 

_ Murdering Ezra Bennet. _ Again his psyche finished the sentence he couldn’t bear to speak aloud. 

Dani shook her head, “You’re a good man, Malcolm. The most selfless person I’ve ever met. You are not owed this. You are not owed more time in prison. That isn’t justice, or penance, or whatever you want to call it. You do not deserve this.  _ We _ do not deserve this. And we are going to fight. So, what’s the first step we need to take?”

Every day Malcolm was confident that he couldn’t possibly love her more than he did in that moment. And every day, she proved him a fool. He took a breath and cleared the white noise from his head, “First step is: find Josylnn.”

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

* * *

When the buzzer to the apartment sounded, Dani answered, “It’s open.” 

She cracked the door and went back to her seat at the island. Gil and JT entered, more files in hand. 

“Anything new?” Malcolm asked, hopeful. 

JT pulled the chair next to Dani, “New? Yes. Helpful? No.” 

The profiler raised up from the file he was studiously combing, “What now?” 

Gil answered him, “We got a call from the Marshals. Yesterday they were set to destroy those cartridges they picked up a month ago. Turns out two of them didn’t match the others. Apparently they looked almost identical, with one exception, neither were armor piercing.” 

“Is that mistake on our end or theirs?” Dani asked. 

“Varga, swears when he inspected them they were all there, 200 identical rounds.” The lieutenant walked over to Malcolm’s wet bar and helped himself to a pour of whiskey. 

“Do you believe him?” Malcolm looked to his entire team for an answer, “I don’t know the guy. Other than illegally obtaining the ammo from him in the first place.” 

“And stealing his silencer,” JT added. 

“That too,” Bright responded, remorsefully. 

Gil returned to the island sipping the contents of his glass. “I believe him. Varga might have let a signature slip, but he knows his hardware. He sat in that conference room and painstakingly investigated every cartridge for an entire shift.” 

Dani rested her arms on the counter, “Assuming he was right, then a swap occurred at some point. Either in transport or at their office in Newark. Did they pick up or did we deliver?”

“That’s part of the reason why we came back early, that file is here.” JT found it in the stacks and flipped through the pages for a minute, “We delivered. Officer James Bishop.”

Gil eyed the detective, “We need to have a chat with him.” JT nodded. Gil turned to Malcolm and gestured to the files all over the counter, “Any of this getting us closer to Josylnn?” 

“There’s a couple locations that could be promising. I’ll head over to---”

“No, You won’t,” Gil corrected. “You are a civilian for the next four months. You interfering in this investigation not only kills any credibility we have, but it’s also a direct violation of your probation.” 

Malcolm opened his mouth to speak. 

Gil held up a hand to stop him, “Bright. No. That’s an order.” He turned to Dani, “And your job is to make sure he follows it.” 

She nodded, glancing over at him as he stewed and pouted.

As they exited the apartment, Gil added, “Powell text me those locations.” 

Malcolm sighed as he tossed his notes in her direction. 

* * *

The light at the corner of Lafayette and Walker changed, as did the signal for pedestrians to cross. There was only one other pedestrian besides Malcolm waiting to cross. Given the fact that it was 2:30 in the morning, that wasn’t a complete surprise, even in the city. 

He and Dani had gone to bed a little after midnight, their eyes exhausted from staring at paperwork and a computer screen the entire day. 

Dani’s appointment to get cleared for duty was early the next morning. It didn’t take long for her breathing to slow into the steady rhythm of sleep. Malcolm waited a half an hour after he was sure she had fallen asleep, before he gingerly exited their bed, grabbed the attire he needed, and carefully snuck out the door. Twenty-five blocks later, he stood in front of a nail salon, at 2:00am, peeking in the window as though Joslynn herself might be sitting in the nearest chair awaiting her manicure. He stepped back from the window, taking in his surroundings. The sounds of night shift waste management trucks echoed down the less hectic streets and alleyways. 

“This is ignorant,” he scolded himself, turning to retrace his steps back home. 

Malcolm glanced up at the sign as he crossed Walker Street and sighed. Malcolm Walker. Eight weeks ago, Malcolm Walker strolled into Ezra Bennet’s club and charmed the criminal mastermind in an instant. Seven weeks ago, Malcolm Bright lay in an infirmary bed in Manhattan Detention Complex with a freshly stitched stab wound, having watched the love of his life seemingly die in his arms a few days prior. The speed at which literally your entire world can flip onto its side was terrifying. 

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he walked through a section of construction scaffolding. He always sped up his pace when beneath them; another one of his irrational fears: collapsing scaffolding. When he reached the corner, a garbage truck stopped, almost too far out into the intersection. Two men jumped out to collect the bags on the sidewalk. Malcolm turned and walked around the back of the truck to avoid traffic.

As soon as he rounded it, one of the men rushed him. Malcolm was so surprised that he didn’t have time to react. The second man came from behind him and shoved him into the brick side of the building, face first. Bright immediately tried to push himself backwards off of the wall, but one of the men had their forearm on his neck, pushing his face harder into the brick, and was using his substantial body weight to pin the rest of his body there as well. The second man grabbed Malcolm’s arm and pinned it, outstretched, against the wall, pushing in the wrong direction at the elbow. 

The profiler cried out in pain, earning a great deal more of it from both men. He was trapped. Try as he might, he couldn’t move or prevent whatever it was they were about to do. The second man’s back was blocking his view of his arm, as Malcolm struggled in vain. 

“Enjoy.” 

The man’s pleasantry was the only warning Malcolm got. Suddenly he felt a prick on the back of his hand, as a tingling warmth quickly spread up his forearm to his shoulder. He had just enough time to feel the men release him and watch the syringe fall to the ground, before it hit him. A profound elation he couldn’t explain engulfed his entire being. Instantly, every care he’d ever had in the world melted away. His father, losing his job at the FBI, Dani’s face as the bullet hit her, none of that mattered, none of that even existed anymore. There was only this feeling, this complete and utter euphoria.

Malcolm only barely registered the sound of the truck driving away. He turned, his back to the wall now, and slowly slid down it. The injuries on his face were completely forgotten, as was the fact that his head had just been slammed against a brick wall. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. On the back of his right hand, there was a tiny dot of blood atop one of the veins. He stared at it in awe. Then, he wiggled his fingers and grinned as he watched the tendons on the back of his hand move in a wave. 

Despite the life-affirming warmth that had spread throughout his entire body, his head felt heavy and hard to control. When he attempted to raise it, it fell back against the wall harder than he’d intended. The resulting white spots in his vision were, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. For a few seconds, they flashed in and out like tiny stars. His heart was beating so fast it took his breath away. Each pulse pounded like a drum, throbbing in his veins so hard he was sure they would explode. 

Malcolm took a deep breath, the action had never brought him more peace and tranquility. He hadn’t noticed the incredible weight that had been pressing down on his chest and shoulders, the burden he had been carrying for weeks. All of the pain, the guilt, the fear, the worry had lifted off of him and he was able to breath again. Never in his entire life had he felt so happy, so content, so light that he was sure he could literally fly. As he sat in the alleyway, watching the cars pass, everything was perfect. 

Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind his voice of reason, his analytical shoulder angel, was trying to get a message to him. 

_ Get up.  _

How long had he been sitting there? Time had seemed to pause indefinitely.

_You have to get home._

At first, he whipped his head around, trying to find who was talking to him. Giggling.

_ Four blocks. That’s all you have to walk.  _

_ Home _ , he thought.  _ Dani _ .

Her face appeared in his mind. She was looking up at him through her lashes, wearing that trademark bitten-cheek smile. An entirely new wave of joy, of love in its purest form, swept over him. She was perfection personified, everything he could ever hope for. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to hold her, and never let go, to share this feeling with her. 

Malcolm pulled himself up, using the wall for support. The rush of even that simple movement was intoxicating. His body felt amazing, both powerful and incredibly relaxed at the same time. He started forward and slowly turned the corner back on to Lafayette. He stumbled on a subway grate, but caught himself before falling. A man passed by him, deliberately creating as much space between them as he could. 

He passed his building, accidentally walking an extra block north, before he realized his mistake and turned around. As he fished for his keys, Malcolm stared at the graffiti on the door. He’d never paid much attention to it, but the colors, the curvature of the writing, was actually quite inspired, soothing even. 

When he got to his apartment, he subconsciously understood that he should try to be quiet and not wake Dani. The execution of that knowledge was another thing entirely. He managed to get the door closed with relative ease, which was nothing short of a miracle. 

Once he was inside, the rush of the high started to fade. His heart rate slowed and his vision lost the radiance that had colored everything since it started. Suddenly he was parched to the point of what felt like dehydration. His mouth tasted bitter and felt like sandpaper. 

After downing two straight glasses of water, Malcolm still felt as though he hadn’t had a single sip. As he filled the third, Dani’s voice floated to the kitchen from their bed. 

“Bright?” 

Instantly, his heart rate spiked, “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” 

His brain was so unfocused that it took an impressive amount of willpower to come up with a legitimate answer, one that wasn’t all that creative, “Getting a drink of water.” 

“Oh.” 

Their covers rustled for a second and then Dani returned to her slumber. 

Malcolm sighed in relief. The euphoria, that absence of stress and worry, was slowly waning. He tiptoed into the bathroom and shut the door. Reaching for the faucet handle, he looked down at his hands. Both were shaking uncontrollably. After splashing his face a few times and running his hands through his hair, Malcolm caught a glimpse of his reflection. The eyes were the most shocking; his pupils were minuscule, barely visible in a sea of crystal blue. 

He stood there for some time staring at his face, searching for something that he couldn’t quite place. The high had passed; the resulting tranquility had vanished. 

Malcolm knew that the immediate after effects of whatever had been injected into his system were bound to be miserable. But, that wasn’t his first concern. He was fairly certain he knew the ‘who’. And if Joslynn was indeed the one behind what had just happened, given the Niners’ industry, that meant it was most likely heroin he’d been injected with. What he didn't know was the ‘why’. The messages, the stalking, and now this, there had to be an endgame, a method to the madness. It was absolutely infuriating that he couldn’t figure it out. 

He flipped the light switch off and exited the bathroom, slowly making his way to the bed. As soon as he lay down, Dani scooted closer and snuggled into his chest. Malcolm wrapped his arm around her, his hands still convulsing, and kissed the unruly mass that was her curls. Guilt hit him like a speeding freight train. She was the one person who would actually understand what he’d just gone through. 

But he could never tell her.


	3. Chapter 3

Sleep toyed with Malcolm for what remained of the night. If it wasn’t fitful visions disturbing his slumber, it was the various after effects of what had happened to him. There was no quieting his mind; it raced like a thoroughbred around a track, full tilt. Thousands of images flashed in succession like a mental strobe light:

Shaking Ezra Bennet’s hand, in his office.

The crowd of inmate bystanders as he slid down the wall, blood rushing from his wound. 

“Enjoy.”

Sprinting through the station. Frantically searching for Dani’s train.

“You’re arresting me aren’t you?” 

I know what you did. 

Dani beneath him on Bennet’s desk, whispering his name. 

“Now I’m making it personal.”

Malcolm finally gave up hope of getting any rest and made his way to the bathroom, checking himself in the mirror. There were a few scrapes on the right side of his face, courtesy of being held against a brick wall against his will. The redness had all but subsided in the few hours since the attack, but the scrapes would require an explanation. He scratched his palm - they’d been itching practically non-stop the entire night - and made a mental note to research what other impending side effects he could expect in the coming days. He could already tell he was more anxious than normal, on edge. While he tried to come up with a viable excuse for the marks on his face, Malcolm decided to take a shower and attempt to relax. 

* * *

Dani awoke to an empty bed, a fact that initially scared her, that is until she caught a whiff of the smells coming from the kitchen. She rolled over to find Malcolm working culinary magic at the stovetop. After a good stretch, she made her way to the counter next to him and leaned in, sniffing. 

“What is this heavenly scent?” she cooed. 

He chuckled, “That would be the strawberry crepes.” He pointed dramatically to the pan with the spatula.

“You are amazing,” she kissed his cheek, grabbing a glass and some juice from the fridge afterward. 

Malcolm scratched the back of his hand, “I try.” 

Dani sat down across from him. He eyed her without looking, feeling her gaze on him, noticing his face. He knew her well enough that he could have counted down to her comment. 

“What’s that?” her mouth was full of crepe, as she pointed with her fork.

He flashed a charming yet embarrassed-looking grin, “This would be the result of my lack of coordination this morning on the way to the kitchen.” 

Vague, but believable. 

The lie stung in his throat. The fact that it was likely the first of many, hurt far worse. 

“Seriously?” 

Malcolm nodded as he plated another crepe from the pan, grateful that she didn’t seem to want to push the issue. 

“Good luck today.” 

Strategic change of subject. 

“Do you really mean that?” she asked, knowing how much of a blow it would be once he was spending all of his weekdays alone again.

He looked up at her in earnest, “Of course I do. I know you’re ready. I’m just not used to roaming this apartment alone. Who knows what I’ll do when you’re not around.” 

The statement, which would have absolutely been true two days ago, had taken on an entirely new meaning since last night. Malcolm was already physically dealing with the aftermath of being injected. Itchy hands were the tip of the iceberg. They were constantly shaking, making this the only time he would ever be grateful for the pre existing hand tremors. In addition to getting no sleep overnight, his whole body was exhausted from everything it had been put through. Every part of him felt sore and overworked. 

Dani pouted empathetically, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll miss you too.” 

Malcolm scratched his forearm, “It does. Thank you.” 

At that Dani hopped down from the bar chair and scurried off to get ready for work, a noticeable bounce in her step. 

Once the bathroom door clicked, Malcolm dug his nails into his arms and scratched them both with fervor. Then he ran cold water over them in the sink, his hands trembling so bad there was a trail of drops down the front of his shirt when he’d finished. 

Getting through this was going to be bad enough. But keeping it hidden, that was going to be damn near impossible. 

* * *

Never in a thousand years had Dani thought she would be so excited to sit at her desk and push papers all day. At least she was back at the precinct. The sights and sounds that she took for granted: the constantly ringing phones, the white-noise hum of detectives discussing their cases, were like a comforting cup of tea. Though she would never admit it to his face, she actually missed her daily banter with JT. 

Surprisingly the day actually flew by. Her clearance wasn’t completed until 10:15. By the time she got settled, brought up to speed on the evening’s developments, and logged back into her computer it was almost lunchtime.

She spent the afternoon working on the same thing she had at home with Malcolm, finding Joslynn. She’d gotten ahold of four acquaintances, three of which immediately hung up on her as soon as the word detective left her mouth. The fourth stayed on long enough to discuss his true feelings about the NYPD before then proceeding to hang up as well. Coming up empty handed was frustrating as hell, but at least she was doing something. Standing by and watching Malcolm get threatened wasn’t something Dani could continue to do. 

An hour before the end of her shift, Gil came over to her desk. 

“Hey. Any progress?” 

“If by progress you mean ‘got hung up on multiple times’ then yes, my day was quite productive.” 

“Keep pushing, we’re close to something. I know we are.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his voice at all. 

“You really believe that?” 

He smiled down at her, “Yes I do. When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, you can feel the change. It’s coming.” 

Dani shifted back in her seat, “I just hope it comes before something else happens to Bright.” 

Gil’s shoulders slumped slightly, “How's he doing?” 

“He’s miserable, but doing everything he can to hide it from me. Six months away from this was already torture. Now to have everything that’s happening to him and not be able to work the case, it’s driving him crazy.” 

“We’re going to find Joslynn. Trust the process - both of you.” As he finished his pep talk, his cell buzzed and he furrowed his brows as he answered.

“Bright?” 

Dani sat up in her chair, listening intently. 

“When?” Gil’s eyes bounced as he processed whatever it was Malcolm was telling him. “I’ll send tech over asap. We need a better plan. Meet me at my place after my shift.” His eyes turned to Dani. “Yeah. I’ll tell her. Okay. I’ll see you shortly. Forward that to me.” 

Dani’s heart sank, her head falling into her hands, “What now?” 

Gil’s eyes softened apologetically, “Bright got another message.” 

* * *

Less than an hour after Dani left, Malcolm was jogging around The Battery, attempting to distract his mind. As soon as his object of focus was gone, the craving hit him with a fiery vengeance. The physical responses he could handle, or suffer through as it were, but this, the uncontrollable psychological need, was worse than anything he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind for more than a few seconds at a time.

The only thing he could think to do was run; run until he couldn't feel anything anymore, and maybe that would make it stop. By the time he reached the park, he was exhausted, but he refused to stop. He kept going until the nausea was unbearable and he leaned over the rail and wretched into the harbor waters. Whether the fit was a result of over exertion or simply another effect of the injection, he didn’t know. 

Malcolm leaned on the railing, watching a cargo ship get progressively smaller as it sailed away. His stomach lurched again, but there wasn’t anything left to exit his system. Once the nausea let up, he decided to return home. 

  
  


He spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon carefully combing through literally every file that remained on his counter. The notepad next to him was filled with various details and addresses that he thought might be helpful in their search. His symptoms worsened as the day went on. The tremors in his hands were so bad it was making it difficult to write. The nausea worsened, so he skipped lunch in an effort to avoid that particular reunion. Thankfully, mints helped to take the edge off a bit. His body was fatigued, but nowhere near as much as his mind. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to focus. His thoughts were scattered, unorganized, foggy even. Frequently, he would finish a paragraph of a case file, only to realize he hadn’t actually comprehended anything he just read and would have to start over. Casework, analyzing clues, putting the pieces together, this was what he was made for. And now, when it was his ass on the line, he was failing miserably. 

Hours passed. Malcolm had shifted his workspace to the couch and coffee table. Files were strewn all around him as he flipped through the pages, trying to make sense out of the chaos. He’d managed to keep down a cup of coffee and was halfway through his second. At least it was something in his system to help keep him going. 

As he sat down the cup, his phone buzzed. Given the time, he assumed it might be Dani checking in before her last stretch at work. It wasn’t.

**How we feeling today? Did those strawberry crepes help?**

Malcolm stared at the message for a moment, his expression blank. Then, his eyes slowly scanned the room. Anger steadily rose within him, his hands shaking now for an entirely different reason. He closed the file in his lap calmly and, after a second’s pause, hurled it across the living room in a fit of rage. Still in his sweats, he got up, grabbed his wallet, and slammed his apartment door on the way out. 

As soon as he was on the sidewalk, he called Gil. 

“Bright?” 

“I got another message.” 

“When?” The frustration in his boss’s voice was evident.

“A few minutes ago. I think my apartment is bugged. It mentioned the breakfast I made Dani this morning.” Malcolm didn’t realize that he was walking in the direction of the precinct out of habit. 

Gil sighed, “I’ll send tech over asap. We need a better plan.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Meet me at my place after my shift.” 

Malcolm nodded to no one in particular, “I don’t trust that Dani’s place isn’t compromised either. Can you send a few unis with her to pick up some things? Once we get my place cleared, she needs to stay where we know it’s secure until this is all over.”

Gil agreed, “Yeah. I’ll tell her.” 

“Good. I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.” 

“Okay. See you shortly. Forward that to me.” 

“I will.” 

Malcolm ended the call and stopped walking. It would only take twenty minutes to get to Gil’s from here. He needed somewhere to pass the time, somewhere very public. A few buildings away there was a coffee shop. He slipped in, ordered the largest coffee they had, and seated himself in the back corner, anxiously watching the seconds on the clock tick by. Trying desperately not to think about how much he was craving a second fix. 

_ A fix.  _

He bowed his head in shame. In the blink of an eye everything had gone completely off the rails. Malcolm stared at his quivering hands, then squeezed them in an attempt to make them stop. 

_ How the hell did this happen?  _

* * *

Dani called Malcolm as soon as her shift was over. 

“Hey,” there was no mistaking the frustration in his voice. 

“Hey,” she wasn’t sure what to follow up with. “How you doing?” was obviously a stupid question. She decided to go with a report of the afternoon’s events instead, “Gil filled me in on everything. I’m getting ready to go to my place.” 

“With who?” Malcolm was clearly worried for her safety. 

“Tucker and Hicks.” 

Two names seemed to ease his worry a bit, “Okay. But do not go anywhere without one of them. Nowhere in your apartment without it being searched first.” 

She grinned at his protectiveness, “I won’t.” 

“Remember, there’s a good chance your place has been bugged too, so don’t say anything. Or if you absolutely have to, keep it to short vague phrases. Get whatever you need and get out as quickly as possible.” 

“I know.”

“You okay?” She could practically see the look on his face, the concerned furrow in his brow. 

“I will be, once this is all over.” 

“Yeah,” Malcolm’s voice was downtrodden, exhausted. 

“We’re going to get through this. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Nothing in his tone indicated that he actually believed what he was saying. “There’s going to be unis in an unmarked car outside the apartment for a few days. Just an FYI. Be safe.” 

“You too.” 

“I’ll be back as soon as I’m done at Gil’s. I love you.” Those words were the first time since he’d picked up that he sounded hopeful.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Dani watched as Malcolm’s name disappeared from her screen. It gave way to her lock screen, a picture of the two of them sitting on the steps in his apartment. He was behind her, and she leaned back between his legs. When she pulled out her phone to take the picture, Bright perched his chin on her head and smirked. 

She grinned, before putting the phone in her pocket, grabbing her jacket, and leaving the precinct, her escorts in tow. 

* * *

When Dani and the two officers arrived at her apartment building, they rode the elevator with one of the elderly neighbors from her floor, Mrs. Cohen.

She entered just as the doors started to close. Officers Tucker and Hicks were standing against the back wall, Dani in front of them. Twice the woman glanced over her shoulder at the uniformed men behind her. The second time, she looked up at Dani and smiled. 

The four of them exited together on the ninth floor. As Mrs. Cohen veered left toward her apartment, she stopped and turned to face them.

“If the two of you think Dani has done something wrong, I’d like to know. If I’m going to have to knock some sense into you with my purse, I’d rather not walk all the way down the hall and back. I’m an old woman after all.” 

Hicks couldn’t contain his laugh. Tucker simply turned around to avoid eye contact with the would-be-assailant. Dani practically bit through her cheek to keep her smile at bay. 

“I appreciate your support, Mrs. Cohen. Thankfully, these are just my coworkers. No jail time for me today.”

“Ah. Well, alright then.” With that she turned and slowly made her way down the hall. 

Once the three of them had recovered, Dani led the men to her apartment.

As she was turning the key, Tucker touched her arm, “The Lieutenant said one of us should sweep the place while the other stays out here with you.”

Dani rolled her eyes, but didn’t press the matter, knowing the wrath that awaited her companions if Gil learned they hadn’t followed his orders. She waved her hand toward the door, giving her blessing, as Officer Tucker entered, weapon raised. 

After a few minutes, his voice carried out the cracked front door, “All clear.” 

Dani pushed the door open and walked through it on a mission. She’d taken three full strides before she registered her surroundings and froze. Hicks walked through behind her and was attacked by a man who’d been hiding behind the door. By the time Dani could reach for her gun, Hicks was unconscious on the floor. 

“I wouldn’t,” the voice came from her kitchen. A tall ebony-haired woman, having helped herself to Dani’s utensils, poured a cup of tea. She picked it up and made her way around the island, her previously-hidden pregnant belly revealing itself in the process. 

_ Joslynn Bennet. _

She leisurely strolled into the living room and sat on Dani’s couch, while the detective assessed the situation as quickly as she could. 

Hicks was stirring behind her with an incredibly large man standing over him, gun pointed. Tucker was pinned to the wall by a second man, a weapon at his temple. 

“Sorry, Dani,” he muttered. 

“Detective Powell,” Joslynn patted the cushion next to her. 

Dani’s muscles were tightly-coiled springs, tensed to the point of pain, “I’d rather stand.” 

“Suit yourself,” she allowed, sipping her tea. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dani. Granted, most of it was from Luca and Damian. But, between the various lewd comments about your physical appearance, I hear you’re quite the tenacious woman.”

“What do you want?”

Joslynn smiled and sat her cup down on the coffee table. “Honestly, I wanted to meet you in person. Any woman who can captivate a man enough to kill for her must be something truly special.” 

A chill ran down Dani’s spine. “None of that would have happened if Bennet hadn’t shot me in the back.” 

Joslynn’s calm and collected facade nearly broke, she caught herself before allowing the rage to take over. “That shot was justice for my imprisonment. Do you have children Detective Powell?”

Dani sighed, “No.” 

“Do you want children?” 

She weighed whether or not she should tell the truth, “Maybe.” 

“So, yes. Maybe even with your current lover, Malcolm Bright.” Joslynn stood, and slowly walked toward her as she spoke, “Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to be visibly pregnant in prison? Every day someone new would threaten to beat me until I miscarried.” Her hands instinctively wrapped around her belly. “On top of that, thinking that I would miss the first years of my child’s life, only seeing him through protective glass, while I wasted away in a cell. Never getting a relationship with him, to create that unbreakable mother/child bond. The thought of that was the most unbearable thing I could imagine,” she glared over at Dani, “or so I thought.” 

The detective’s pulse raced, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. 

“And then I got called down to the director's office. Do you know how he told me about Ezra?” Joslynn's voice cracked slightly. “His exact words were, ‘We regret to inform you that your husband is dead.’ That’s how I found out he was gone. I cried for days, weeks.” She took another step toward Dani, “Because of the nature of his passing, as well as my incarceration, I wasn’t given clearance to attend his funeral.” A tear spilled over onto her cheek as she spoke. “They wouldn’t even let me go see him in private to say goodbye. Nothing. My husband, the father of my unborn child, was put in the ground and I wasn’t even there.” Her body was trembling with rage, despite her collected tone. 

Dani stared at the woman in front of her. Hicks was completely awake behind her, but didn’t risk any sudden movements. Tucker watched the monologue with wide eyes.

Joslynn closed the remaining distance between them, and leaned in, uncomfortably close, to Dani’s face, “My son will never know his father. Malcolm robbed him of that. He took the future I planned, with the man I love, from me. You’re going to learn how utterly devastating that feels. You will watch as Malcolm is slowly torn apart, from the inside out, and you’ll be powerless to stop it. Maybe then you’ll begin to understand my pain.”

Dani’s heart was pounding, as the woman took a deep breath, straightened her shirt, and held out her hand. 

“Phone,” then speaking to the other men in the room, “And radios.” 

Both Tucker and Hicks looked to Dani for guidance. None of their lives was worth resistance. So, she nodded and handed her device to Joslynn. Indicating that her escorts should do the same.

“Sit,” this time it wasn’t an offer, it was a command. The three of them sat on Dani’s couch as Josylnn’s men proceeded to zip tie one of Dani’s wrist to Hicks’ and the other to Tucker’s. They did the same to their ankles connecting the officer’s free legs to the legs of the couch. 

Joslynn grinned maniacally. “It was a pleasure to meet you Dani. Remember my promise.” 

With those parting words, she and her men exited the apartment, the door slamming with a foreboding thud behind them. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my girl Jess! Happy Birthday, sis. Love you to pieces!

The amber liquid in Malcolm’s tumbler was almost gone. Gil’s was full, having already been refilled. The two men had brainstormed ideas for over an hour and kept coming back to the same conclusion: they had to find Joslynn Bennet. Until they could do that, nothing else mattered. 

The profiler scratched his head, then the palm of his left hand. His head was foggy, causing him to have to continually go back and check his notes for details that he would typically remember. 

Gil leaned back, “Are we certain Josylnn’s even in the city? Or hell, the state for that matter?”

“No. She could easily be halfway across the country.” 

“How pregnant was she? Far enough to have flight restrictions?”

“She was around six months when I went under with Bennet. That’d put her between seven and eight now. Not all airlines have pregnancy restrictions, and those that do don’t usually go into effect until the last month.” Malcolm squeezed his fists. 

Gil eyed them, but chose not to comment, “So basically we’re--” 

“Completely fucked.” He pushed himself up off the couch in an angry huff, scratching his neck in the process.

“I was going to say, ‘waiting for new information’.” 

“Sorry,” Malcolm paced the living room, “I just hate this. Waiting around for my inevitable demise.” 

“I know, kid. But that’s not what we’re doing here. Police Work is--” 

Gil was about to finish his mantra, when Malcolm’s phone rang. He furrowed his eyebrows at the name, Ruth Cohen. 

“Hello?”

“Malcolm?” 

As soon as he heard Dani’s voice, he knew. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Gil’s head whipped up. 

“Guess who was waiting in my apartment when we got there.”

Malcolm’s tremors increased. He could barely keep hold of the phone. 

“Joslynn?”

At her name Gil jumped up off of the couch, “Put that on speaker.” 

“Yeah,” Dani’s audibly-shaken voice filled the room.

“Where the hell were Tucker and Hicks?!” Gil demanded. 

“Tucker went in first to clear the apartment, but she had two guys with her. They had him at gunpoint and knocked Hicks unconscious when we entered after. He’s headed to get checked out.” 

Malcolm was so furious he could barely speak, “Did they hurt you?” 

“No. They just zip tied us together before they left. Oh, and took our phones and radios with them. She said she just wanted to talk.” 

“About?” Gil pried.

Dani took a deep breath, “She said she wanted to meet me. That any woman who could compel a man to shoot someone,” she edited, knowing Gil was listening, “must be something special.” 

Malcolm’s jaw clenched, “Trying to intimidate you.”

Gil leaned in toward the phone, “What else did she say?”

“She talked about how scared she was to be pregnant in prison. They wouldn’t give her escorted leave for Bennet’s funeral. She never got to say goodbye.” 

Malcolm looked up at Gil, “Did you know that?” The lieutenant shook his head.

“There’s something else,” Dani’s reluctance to continue was obvious. “Joslynn said she wants me to feel the same pain she is. She said I would watch as you were slowly torn apart from the inside out. That I’d be powerless to stop it.”

Dani cleared her throat, trying to manage her emotions in the presence of her boss. Malcolm resisted the nagging urge to dig his nails into his palms. Spotting the tiny track mark on the back of his right hand. 

_And this is how Joslynn intends to make good on her promise._

“So, I just thought of something,” she lingered on the first word. 

Both men replied in unison, “What?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how she knew where I lived. I haven’t been here in weeks. What if Joslynn has the list.”

“The list?” Malcolm stared, unfocused, at the wall trying to figure out what she was talking about. Gil seemed equally confused. 

“The list of names and addresses. Of the detectives and higher ranks. Remember Bennet said he had a second copy en route, after we destroyed the first one.” 

The profiler looked up at his mentor, “What ever happened with that? Wasn’t there a suspected source in the NYPD?”

Gil agreed, “Three. They investigated them, but had no real evidence other than flimsy connections with people who knew people in the Niners. When Bennet died and the second list never appeared, the investigation went cold.” 

“We need to re open that.” 

They all agreed. 

Gil’s phone rang. When he answered, Malcolm hit the button, taking the conversation off speaker. “Hey. You okay?” 

Dani sighed, “Honestly, not really.” 

Gil was on his phone now too, he spoke softly in Malcolm’s direction, while the person on the line relayed information, “Tech is done sweeping your place. They found three bugs: one up stairs, one in the living, and one in the bedroom.”

“Did he just say bedroom?” Dani asked, indignant.

Bright ignored her question and responded to Gil, “Are we clear to go back?” 

The lieutenant nodded. “I’ve got more unis on their way to Dani’s.” He grabbed his coat off the back of a bar chair, “I’m headed there now. And no, you can’t come. I’ll give her a ride back to your place when she’s done with her report. We’re increasing the watch at your place: one marked car and two unmarked.” 

This time Malcolm nodded in agreement, but spoke to Dani, “You hear all that?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you as soon as I’m done here.

“Okay. Be careful.” 

“I will.”

Malcolm took a breath, “I love you, Dani. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” 

“I’m not. And I love you too.” 

Malcolm returned his phone to his pocket and followed Gil out the door. 

“You want a ride to your place?” he asked. 

“I’m fine. Get to Dani. It’s early. I’ll just walk to 8th and get a cab.”

“You sure?” Gil doubled down, as he stood in the open door of his car.

“Yeah. Thank you.” 

The engine growled, as the lieutenant fired it up and sped off in the opposite direction. Malcolm walked with a purpose, keeping an eye on his surroundings to the point of paranoia. Although, was it really paranoia if you’d already been attacked once? At this point vigilance was a more appropriate term. 

The sidewalks were moderately busy, a fact that eased his mind somewhat. An older man walking a Pomeranian nodded as he passed. When Malcolm was half way to 8th street, a young boy sped by him on a scooter, weaving between pedestrians. 

“Deacon! Not so close!” His father yelled from behind Malcolm. “Sorry!”

He turned to the man, who was also pushing a stroller, and smiled, “No problem.” As he turned back around the boy, who was ten feet ahead of him by this point, hit a pothole in the sidewalk, wiped out, and immediately started crying. The dad cursed under his breath. Malcolm rushed over to the boy and crouched down. 

“Hey. You okay?” 

The boy looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “my dad said I had to.” 

The profiler’s head tilted to the side in confusion, “What?”

Before he could finish the word, he felt a burning sting in the left side of his neck. He jerked away, his hand reaching for the spot. The boy jumped up, grabbed his scooter, and darted away. As Malcolm stood, the father stuffed something into the pocket of his joggers.

“For later,” he said, as he too sprinted off, leaving the empty stroller prop behind. The entire event had taken ten seconds maybe. And the perpetrators were long gone. Meanwhile, Malcolm stood there, dazed. 

The warmth was spreading, but not nearly as fast as before. It had barely reached his shoulders. 

_Last time they hit a vein_ , he noted. 

His thoughts were frantic, as he tried to figure things out before the high took effect. 

_Intramuscular. That means I’ve likely got ten to twenty minutes before this fully hits. I can get home by then. Or close to it._

He jogged the half a block remaining to 8th street and hailed a cab, thankful that it was busy enough to get one immediately without being the rush hour gridlock.

“214 Lafayette,” he pulled a $100 bill out of his wallet. “This is your tip if you get me there in less than ten.” 

The driver’s eyes widened, “Yes, sir.” And he pulled into the flow of traffic, weaving in and out of open spaces at an impressive speed.” 

Malcolm took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm his pulse and nerves. The more relaxed he was the better his chances were to get home before anything started. 

True to his word, the driver made what should have been a fifteen minute trip in eight. Malcolm handed him the hundred and thanked him, while rushing out of the cab. 

He saw the marked police car and gave it an acknowledging wave. As he ascended the stairs to his apartment door, the beginnings of the high threatened. His pulse started to increase, and he was getting lightheaded. Malcolm shut and locked the door, then reached for the contents of his pockets. His right hand emerged with his wallet. His left held his phone and a syringe. It had a protective cap and was filled completely with a beige liquid. In all the hustle, he’d completely forgotten that the man had put it there. 

Malcolm stared at the contents for a moment, before walking over to the trash can. He stepped on the pedal to open it, his breaths shallow and quick. He didn’t even register making the conscious decision to close the lid and walk to his night stand. The next thing he knew, he was hiding the syringe in the back corner of the drawer, and closing it. 

The last coherent thought he had before the rush kicked in, was Dani. Conservatively, he probably had an hour before she would be on her way home. 

With that last thought, the wave of euphoria engulfed him completely. It took approximately five seconds for Malcolm to realize that this high was vastly different than the previous one. The first time he had been totally relaxed, zen, without a care in the world. Heroin. Those carefree undertones were still present, but relaxed he was not. In fact, he was feeling more manic by the second. That was not a symptom of heroin use. All of his senses were heightened. Colors were more vivid. Sunshine’s tweets were pure music. Everything he touched felt incredible; the fabric of his pants, the cool granite countertop, all of it was mesmerizing. His entire body felt amazing, powerful, more alive than ever before.

This high he recognized. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced it. Cocaine. Or a combination of the two. The explosion of dopamine was wonderful, he felt confident, elated. A memory flashed through his mind. He could hear his own voice.

_People say that Dopamine triggers pleasure. But really, it’s about desire._

The feel of Dani in his arms as he asked her to dance.

Malcolm’s body immediately reacted to the memory of her against him. Other, far more intimate, memories of Dani followed. 

_Dani_. 

He checked his watch, forty-five minutes, or close to it. His love would be here in less than an hour. All he wanted to do was hold her and tell her how much she meant to him. She was the only thing in the world that mattered. Everything else could disappear, as long as he still had her. 

_Focus_. 

_Yeah, that’s not going to happen,_ he giggled. 

_She can’t see you like this,_ his psyche argued.

_Shit, you’re right._

He knew that was true, but he couldn’t exactly feel worry at this point. There was no way he was going to be completely over this before she returned. Even if the high had worn off, he would likely have to deal with some serious fallout afterward. 

_You have to mask it. What can you do to try and disguise your behavior?_

_Exercise_? 

_Worth a shot._

Malcolm dropped to the floor between the island and the staircase, and immediately started doing push ups. Once he got to thirty, he flipped and moved to crunches. Back and forth. Over and over. Desperately hoping he could work some of this energy off before Dani got home. 

* * *

After forty minutes of the non-stop rotation, Malcolm’s arms couldn’t support his own weight any longer. He lay on the floor, completely exhausted, yet somehow still a ball of energy. Mentally he could have gone on forever. He felt unstoppable. The exercise hadn’t done much to stifle the mania. At least it could serve as an excuse for the hyperactivity, provided, of course, that he could hide the other effects well enough. From a recovering addict. Who had seen him high before. 

Malcolm smiled, incapable of stressing at the moment, pushed himself up off of the floor, and headed straight to the shower. It didn’t do much to calm him, but the warm water felt absolutely heavenly. At least he was clean. Afterward he went to the fridge for water. His hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t get the bottle open, so he opted for a glass from the tap instead.

As he was downing the second glass, Dani walked through the door. His heart leapt at the sight of her.

 _Here we go_ , he thought, taking a deep breath.

She shut the door and sat her bag of belongings down by the stairs, before turning. “Hey,” she was halfway to him by the time the single word had finished. 

“Hey,” Malcolm wrapped his arms around her when she reached him and inhaled deeply. He was home. “How are you doing?”

“Better now.” Dani nestled into his chest. He rubbed her back in an attempt to hide his trembling hands. “Your pulse is going crazy,” she noted. 

“That’s just what you do to me,” he said, only partially joking. The first time he had been high around her, they were barely even classifiable as friends. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her. It didn’t help this time, that he actually had memories of her, the sounds she made, how her body felt against his, the way her back arched when she orgasmed. Malcolm did everything he could to keep those thoughts at bay. He was failing miserably. 

When Dani looked up at him and rolled her eyes at his answer, he smiled, “And I may have spent the majority of my time waiting for you to get home working out.” 

“Worried?” 

Even though he couldn’t feel it in this moment, he absolutely had been, “Joslynn Bennet was in your apartment. I don’t even want to think about how that could have turned out.” 

Dani laid her head on his shoulder, “I know. I don’t want to think about how she intends to keep her promise either.” 

Malcolm’s thoughts were scattered, flying every which way. He tried to focus as best he could. All he could think about was how happy he was that Dani was safe, and here now, and in his arms, pressed against his body… 

_Focus_ , he scolded. 

Dani looked up at him again, “Are you okay?” 

“I am, now that you’re home. Why?”

She eyed him speculatively. 

He reluctantly unwrapped his arms and crossed them over his chest, hoping she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of them shaking. All the while, he fought the urge to bounce in place as he spoke, “I’d be lying if I said today hasn’t been a complete and total catastrophe.”

She huffed a laugh, “You’re not kidding,” and thankfully dropped the inquiry. Then, Dani bit her cheek, an act that usually meant she wanted to say something. 

“What?” he asked. 

When her gaze floated up to his, there were tears welling in her eyes, “I’m scared, Bright. Of what Joslynn has planned. I can’t lose you.” 

Again, Malcolm’s heart swelled. He knew how she felt about him; she’d made it very clear on numerous occasions. But, to witness the depth of that love, especially in his current state, melted every part of him, and ignited a fire in some places as well.

Dani reached for his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Instantly that fire within him spread. The kiss started chaste, but just the taste of her lips was enough to set him off. He lifted a hand with the intention of holding the back of her head and deepening the kiss. But, he caught himself and lowered it. Naturally, Dani was thinking the same thing he was and opened her mouth, teasing his with her tongue. He returned the gesture, before he could even think. Every one of his senses was ablaze. 

_This is wrong._

He froze, mid kiss. 

“What’s wrong?” Dani asked, immediately looking around the apartment for the threat. 

Malcolm was grateful for the small distance she put between them. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s just, you’ve been through a lot today. I don’t want to--” 

She cut his sentence off with her lips and pulled her body flush against his. The cotton pants offered little barrier between his body and hers, and he twitched in response to the friction. He’d never considered what it might be like to sleep with someone while under the influence of something so mind altering. He knew the drug heightened your drive, but this was like nothing he’d ever imagined. 

_And you cannot do this, under any circumstances._

It took a supernatural level of will power to pull himself away from her, “Wait. Dani.” 

Her chocolate eyes held him in a trance, his remaining capacity to think clearly vanished completely. He wanted her. Every part of him wanted to touch her, taste her, hear heavy breathing. 

“I know you’re trying to be noble. But, that’s not what I need right now.” She reached out and laid a hand on his chest, “This is what I need. To know that you’re here, with me, safe.” Her hand slowly slid down his torso and over the obvious bulge in his pants. That light touch took his breath away. His already racing pulse, skyrocketed. “Make me forget everything that happened today.” 

With that, all hope of Malcolm resisting his urges took a flying leap out the window. He pulled Dani into him and kissed her with fervor. His hands were already at the buttons on her shirt. After the first few were undone, his lips found her collarbone. He never broke the contact. as he pushed the blouse off her shoulders to the ground, and wrapped his arms around her again, feeling as much skin as he could in the process. He’d tasted almost every inch of her skin before, but now, it was like an aphrodisiac. Every time his mouth touched her, an electric current jolted through him. Her scent was intoxicating. And the faint moan that escaped her lips, as he trailed kisses down her chest hardened him in an instant. 

Malcolm unclasped her bra with ease, tossing it aside without a second thought. He kissed the underside of her chest, teasing her, before taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking. Dani cried out. 

“Sorry.” Admittedly he had little control over how intense his actions were at this point. 

“No. Do it again.” Dani’s head fell back when he complied, and she moaned. When he finished, her hands flew to his shirt pulling it over his head quickly. They kissed again and Malcolm pulled her toward the couch, removing her remaining clothing before laying her down. Seeing Dani nude was nothing short of a masterpiece. Every inch, every curve was a work of art. His cock ached at the sight of her there, on the couch, bare and wanton. 

His heart was pounding so loud he was sure Dani could hear it. In his head it sounded thunderous, as he discarded his bottoms and snaked his way up her body. Kissing up the inside of her thigh, he grinned, before jumping to just under her navel to continue the rest of the way up to her lips. As his tongue lavished Dani’s, Malcolm’s hand found her center. The circular motion of his fingers caused Dani to break the kiss. She whispered his name, as he continued his movements. Her hips bucked and he responded by pushing two of his fingers inside her, his thumb continuing where his fingers had just been. Dani’s breaths quickened and she begged him not to stop. Her chest heaved, as she periodically forgot to breath and gasped. When her climax hit, Malcolm watched her face intently. Reveling in her bliss, only exacerbated his own lingering high. 

As soon as she came down, Dani pushed him backward until he was seated correctly on the couch. She crawled onto his lap and teased him for a minute, threatening to lower herself on to him, but not going through with it. It was torture, his cock throbbing in anticipation. When she tried to tease him again, Malcolm couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto him, thrusting up at the same time. Each of them cried out, Dani at the sudden fullness, and Malcolm at the sheer euphoria that was being inside her. She began to grind him, slowly at first, working into a steady rhythm. His head fell back against the top of the couch as he watched her ride him. 

Dani was the most beautiful and erotic creature he had ever laid eyes on. Every move she made felt amazing. For a moment he thought he was going to finish, watching her pleasure him with her body, but the sensation only intensified. He was right there, on the edge, his stamina prolonged by the poison that had been forcibly pumped into his system. Without warning, he held Dani around him and stood, moving them both to the floor. He kissed her like he was a drowning man and she was oxygen, both of them coated in sweat, before turning her over. She got up onto her knees, presenting herself to him. He gladly accepted, thrusting into her roughly. 

Malcolm grunted lewdly, as he pistoned into her, desperately trying to finish. His pulse was through the roof and he was seeing bright spots on the edges of his vision. Every motion brought him closer and closer, heightened the pleasure. He pushed on Dani’s back, lowering her front half, as he gripped her hips tightly. The new position changed just enough that Dani began singing a chorus of ‘yeses’. He knew he had to be leaving marks where he gripped, but the only thing that mattered was feeling her come on him. As Dani’s second climax hit, her spasms finally brought his own. With one last thrust, be buried himself within her, his cock pulsating the single greatest orgasm he’d ever experienced. 

The lights at the edge of Malcolm’s vision intensified for the moment, then gradually disappeared. His pulse lowered, but only back to the rapid post-high rate it had been at when Dani arrived. It was still far from normal. She rolled over onto her back, and he joined, wrapping his arm around her once more. 

“Wow,” Dani praised, giggling. 

He smirked, tracing random patterns over her skin with his fingertips, “Yeah.” 

“Is that a ‘today was crazy stressful’ shaky hand or a ‘sex so good I’m shook’ shaky hand?”

At that he laughed outright. She’d noticed, but at least there were valid excuses aplenty, for tonight. “Can it be both?”

_And not the fact that I’m still coming down from the second high that was forced upon me by the woman who is bound and determined to completely ruin my life._

Dani sighed, exhausted, “I think that’s acceptable,” and snuggled into him. 

And just like that, the carefree feeling, subsided. Malcolm lay there on the floor, his love in his arms, and took stock of what he’d just done. He’d slept with Dani, a recovering addict, while high. If she ever found out, she would never forgive him. And rightfully so. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? How could he be so selfish?

Malcolm slowly closed his eyes and swallowed the ever-growing lump in his throat. 

It was inexcusable. It was reprehensible. It was something he could never undo. 

He would never forgive himself. 

Joslynn Bennet was winning. 


	5. Chapter 5

Malcolm was beyond grateful when Dani suggested that they go to bed earlier than normal. The events of the day, and more so the evening, had exhausted her both mentally and physically. He could barely look her in the eyes once they’d gotten off the living room floor. The thought of what he had allowed to happen, what he hadn’t been strong enough to resist, was physically excruciating. The ache behind his sternum took his breath away. 

That was nothing compared to the post-high symptoms he started experiencing. It had advanced past being merely physical; now it was affecting his emotions, his mood, his ability to focus on something for more than a few seconds at a time.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he was even able to fall asleep. However, that rest wasn’t peaceful; the same slideshow of images played on repeat in his dreams. This time the events of the last twenty-four hours had been added to the shuffle. 

Less than two hours after he drifted off, Malcolm woke with a jolt. The pain in his stomach was so intense that it took everything he had not to cry out and wake Dani. Instead, he balled up into the fetal position, praying it would pass. Five absolutely miserable minutes later, none of it had subsided in the least. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, and had almost dialed 9-1-1, when he realized that he couldn’t. A doctor would know the cause almost instantly and he would be back in jail before the withdrawal had time to fully set in. So, he lay back down, his arms wrapped around his knees, silent tears falling sideways across his face.

Fifteen minutes. That’s how long it took for the agony to finally end. Every single second of it, Malcolm was certain he was going to pass out from the pain. By the time it could stretch out again, he was covered in sweat. His head was throbbing and the tremors in his hands had taken full possession of his arms now as well. Malcolm ran his hands through his damp hair. His torso spasmed again, doubling him over, once more. Luckily it only lasted for a minute, but the pain was still unbearable.

 _I can’t do this,_ he thought, slowly sitting up. 

He leaned over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, quietly fishing out the syringe he had hidden in the back. He held it with both trembling hands, fearful he’d drop it and wake Dani. Then he turned and looked at her, asleep next to him. 

_What would she think of you right now?_ his psyche asked. 

Before he had the time to consider his answer, Malcolm’s stomach lurched. He rushed to the bathroom as soundlessly as he could, knelt before the toilet, and heaved violently. When what little contents he had in his stomach had successfully exited, he didn’t even have the strength to stand. Instead, Malcolm laid down where he was, allowing the tile floor to cool his burning face.

Time passed, although how much he didn’t know. Another bout of nausea hit, and he begrudgingly pulled himself up and over the edge of the porcelain bowl, before heaving again. As he finished, he realized there was something in his left hand: the syringe. He’d completely forgotten he was holding it the entire time. 

His psyche taunted him, _Just a little. To take the edge off. It’ll help you get some sleep._

_No._

_Not even half, a fourth. That’d be enough to get rid of the abdominal pain._

Malcolm eyed the syringe for a few seconds, before shaking his head. 

_I said no._

_You’re never going to be able to hide the withdrawal without a little hair of the dog._

_Go away._

_You think Dani won’t put two and two together? She’s a recovering addict for Christ’s sake._

He looked up at the ceiling, searching as though help might come from above.

_Leave me alone._

_What do you think she’ll do once she’s figured out what you’ve done?_

_Stop it._

_The drugs. The deception. The primal fuck on the floor, while you were high out of your goddamn mind._

_Enough._

_She’ll leave you. And never look back. You’ll lose the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to you._

“I said ENOUGH!” 

Malcolm’s eyes flew to the door of the bathroom. Surely he’d woken Dani with his outburst. He stuffed the syringe in the pocket of his shorts and pulled himself up, so he was at least standing when she entered. 

A minute passed. Then another. He slowly walked to the door and cracked it. She was still lying in the same position, unfazed. The back of his throat stung, as he watched her sleep from afar. Suddenly, he left the cracked door, and marched back over to the toilet. He pulled the protective cap off of the needle and aimed it at the water in the bowl. 

His hand shook, as he willed himself to find the strength to do what needed to be done.

He wanted to. God did he want to. 

After three minutes of staring at his hand, Malcolm recapped the needle, and exited the bathroom. He tiptoed to his nightstand and returned the offending item to its hiding place. Then, he laid down next to Dani. He watched her chest rise and fall in slumber, tears once again falling down his face. She was the gift he didn’t deserve. The thing that mattered most in this world. 

He took a stuttered breath, biting his lips to keep from sobbing, as terror washed over him. 

Soon, she wouldn’t be what mattered most to him anymore. The poison would take precedence over everything else. It wouldn’t be a conscious decision; it would just happen. 

And he would lose her forever. 

* * *

The next morning, after finally managing a couple hours sleep, Malcolm’s phone, buzzing on the nightstand, woke him. Dani was already up and getting ready for work. 

“Hello?” the profiler croaked, groggily. His throat was raw from the night before and his entire body ached. 

“Malcolm, it’s Chris.” 

Chris Michaels, his probation officer, was a generally nice guy. Given Bright’s situation, he had basically left him alone, provided he followed the guidelines the judge had set for him. They had a set schedule of check-ins once every two weeks. For him to be calling out of the blue was abnormal. “Sorry to wake you,” he added.

Bright didn’t bother trying to politely deny the fact. “It’s no problem.” 

“Listen, I’ll be quick. I need you to stop by the precinct this morning. There’s a couple things we need to discuss.” 

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows, “I can’t step foot inside the precinct. That’s violating my probation.” 

He laughed, “Why can’t all of my clients be like you? I’m your P.O. I’ve asked you to come. That’s official permission.” 

“Okay. I can be there in a half hour.” 

“Sounds good. See you soon.” 

Dani exited the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, “Who wants you at the precinct?” 

As soon as he saw her, the stabbing pain beneath his sternum returned. Malcolm took a second to try and breathe before he answered her, “Chris. He said there are a couple things we need to discuss.” 

“Sounds ominous,” Dani joked, “What did you do?” 

His head whipped in her direction, “What?” 

“I’m kidding. Deep breath, Mr. Paranoia. There’s all sorts of paperwork they have to do early into the probation release process. He’s probably just streamlining everything since your case is so easy.” 

Malcolm’s hands were trembling under the covers, “Yeah.” 

The thought of having to walk into the precinct in his condition was terrifying. After the night he’d had, there was no telling what symptoms might appear out of thin air. There’s no way he would be able to hide it if those abdominal pains reared their ugly head again. Everything about this had him on edge. That and the withdrawal. 

He and Dani walked to the precinct together, something they actually hadn’t ever done before. Prior to going under at Diablo, they weren’t a couple. Since then, they hadn’t been back to work at the same time. It was nice, normal. At one point, Dani reached out and grabbed his pinky with hers. Malcolm looked over at her and smiled. 

For a split second, he forgot. He forgot about Joslynn Bennet. He forgot the voice in the back of his mind that constantly reminded him about the syringe in his nightstand. For a split second, he was genuinely happy. 

Then, he remembered. As he watched Dani’s face light up, her lips scrunching as she tried to keep from smiling back, guilt engulfed him like a dense fog. It pressed down on his chest, choked off his breath in his throat. Eventually it would strangle him. 

When they reached the precinct, Chris was waiting in the entryway. Dani waved goodbye and headed down the hall to the Major Crimes Unit, Malcolm desperate to follow her. He watched her for a moment as she walked away, before turning back to his P.O.

Chris smiled warmly at him, “Follow me.” 

Malcolm obliged, assuming they were headed to an area of offices he’d never been to before. When they stopped in front of the restroom, his blood ran cold. Chris motioned toward the door.

 _Fuck_. 

“What’s going on?” the profiler asked, fully aware of what the answer was going to be.

The officer held up a small plastic container, “Drug test. Part of the probation and all.” 

Malcolm’s pulse was so loud in his ears, that he barely heard any of the reply. He simply held out his hand for the container. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He couldn’t even tell if his hands were shaking. The two men walked into the restroom, and Malcolm provided the sample. Officer Michaels filled out the labels and attached them to the container properly. 

“You okay, Bright?” he asked, as he put the sample in a plastic bag. 

“Sorry?” Malcolm’s mind was chaos, a thousand different scenarios bouncing around simultaneously. 

“I said ‘you okay’? You seem a little on edge. Nervous.” 

The profiler knew to control his tells when replying to that particular baited statement. “I’m not nervous,” he lied. 

The officer smiled again, looking down at the bag in his hand, “Well, we both know you should be.” 

Malcolm’s heart stopped. “What did you say?” 

The two men stared at each other for a moment. Chris’s knowing glare, shifted in an instant to a warm charismatic grin. He turned and opened the door faux-politely, “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Bright.” 

Malcolm exited the bathroom in complete shock. He was practically catatonic, as his legs, on auto-pilot, took him back home. It wasn’t until he walked through his apartment door, that the trance broke. 

_Chris knew._

Malcolm walked to the wet bar and poured himself a substantial amount of whiskey. After taking a large drink, he flopped backward onto his couch. He stared at the empty fireplace. 

_My. P.O. is in Joslynn’s pocket._

His head fell back against the top of the couch, just as it had last night. The guilt, the fear, the rage at everything that had happened in the past three days, all hit him at once. Malcolm finished off the whiskey in one giant gulp and stared at the empty tumblr for a few seconds, before throwing it into the fireplace. The cocktail of emotions, the constant craving, the withdrawal symptoms all exited in one frustrated yell. Afterward his head returned to the back of the couch. The shaking in his hands was only exacerbated by the anger. Nausea returned in full force. Whether that was from the rage, the withdrawal, or the fact that he had basically chugged a very full glass of whiskey, he didn’t know. 

_I’m fucked._

The way Malcolm saw it, there were two possible outcomes to this scenario. One, the results come back, he’s arrested for breaking probation, and goes back to prison. Any prison in the city would house numerous inmates affiliated with the Niners one way or another. That or the fact that he was an ex fed, now NYPD consultant, meant he would be in a body bag by the end of the first week- if he was lucky. He’d only narrowly escaped that fate in the two days he was there the first time. 

The second possible outcome was that his inevitably failing results would come back, and Chris/Josslyn would extort him, making him do god knows what in an effort to prevent outcome number one. 

Either way…

“I’m fucked,” he whispered. 

* * *

Gil’s phone call pulled Malcolm from his stupor. 

“Hey. So, JT and I just got done chatting with James Bishop, the officer that was supposed to transport the ammo cartridges to the Marshals.” 

“‘Was supposed to’ sounds promising,” he sighed. 

“Turns out the day he was supposed to transport them, a Detective Jonathan Serratos was headed to Newark to testify in a case. He offered to make the drop a few buildings down from the courthouse. They cleared it with brass, and that’s all Bishop knew of it.” 

“I take it we are now tracking down Detective Serratos?” 

Gil chuckled, “You would be correct.” 

“Thanks for keeping me in the loop.” 

Malcolm’s lack of enthusiasm and the absence of his typical fishing for information did not go unnoticed by his mentor. “What’s going on?” 

The profiler swallowed down the nausea that he’d been fighting for a half hour, and squeezed his trembling hand into a fist. 

_Everything_. 

“It’s just all catching up to me.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. “And it feels like we’re just spinning our wheels.” 

He barely got the sentence out. The pain in his abdomen came roaring back with a vengeance. Malcolm fell over onto his side on the couch, bending his body in any way he thought might ease the agony. 

“I know, kid,” Malcolm could just barely hear Gil’s unknowing reply. “Hang in there. We’re going to get Joslynn.” 

“Yep,” was all he could manage without giving away the anguish he was experiencing. 

“I’ll be in touch again soon,” the lieutenant promised. 

“Okay.” 

As soon as the call disappeared from his screen, Malcolm cried out in agony. Last night was nothing compared to now. This, this would kill him. There was no way he could be hurting this badly without something horrific happening inside his torso. He was going to die right here in his living room. And Dani would find him when she came home from work.

And with that thought, his vision tunneled and everything faded to black. 

* * *

When Malcolm awoke, it felt like his skull had been split in two. He was on his living room rug, the fall from the couch the apparent cause for the splitting headache. Something smelled rancid. He looked down and saw it, then wiped the side of his face - vomit. That fall to the floor probably saved his life. If he had been on the couch, on his back, he could very well have choked to death.

He sat up slowly, testing the waters. When he thought it safe, he gingerly stood, got some supplies from under the sink, and cleaned up the mess.

Malcolm’s clothes, in addition to the vomit, were sticking to him everywhere. Bracing himself on any furniture he could find, he made his way to the bathroom. The warm water felt nothing short of spectacular. His muscles ached from tensing with the pain. He turned the heat up as high as he could stand, trying to soothe every part of him. 

Ten minutes into the shower, it started again. He managed to turn the water off and get out of the shower before falling to his knees, one hand bracing himself on the floor and the other wrapped around his stomach for dear life. 

_I can’t do this. Not again. It’s going to kill me._

His torso on fire, and getting more light headed by the second, Malcolm crawled, dripping wet and nude, out of the bathroom to his night stand. He clumsily fished for the syringe and sat himself up against the side of his bed.

Malcolm could barely sit upright, as the torture continued, causing him to dry heave. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t remove the cap on the needle. So, he bit down on it and pulled it off with his teeth. 

_Less than half. Just enough to curb the attacks._

For a split second he paused, imagining how pathetic he must look in this moment. He didn’t even know what the contents of the syringe were. But, as the searing pain in his abdomen worsened, none of that mattered. He brought the point of the needle down slowly, grateful for the easy-to-spot veins in his forearm. It was eerie how his hand seemed to steady, once his body knew what it was trying to do.

The needle pierced the skin and slowly Malcolm pushed on the syringe. At the halfway point, he stopped. It took less than ten seconds for the rush to kick in. When the now-familiar sensation hit, Malcolm could tell this was the same concoction he’d been dosed with the last time. Heroin laced with a stimulant, likely cocaine. The pain in his torso vanished in an instant. The nausea subsided. The splitting ache in his head turned to pure unadulterated bliss. 

As if of its own accord, his hand pushed the syringe the rest of the way down. Malcolm’s head fell back against his mattress, the needle fell to the floor, and all his troubles disappeared, while the euphoria intensified. 

* * *

Several hours later, Malcolm had used the mania of the high to his advantage. He organized all the case files that were strewn around the island and living room. He cleaned Sunshine’s cage. Organized his vinyl collection, while blaring said records at raveian disciples. 

By the time Dani came home, Malcolm almost had dinner finished. For once, he was starving, and having something to focus on helped. The fear was still there, in the back of his mind. The gravity of his uncertain future weighed heavily, but the distraction was nice. The high hadn’t lasted as long this time, both a blessing and a curse - he was already building a tolerance. However, hiding tremors and a difficulty to focus was far easier than explaining why he was writhing on the kitchen floor screaming in pain. 

It was cyclic, he knew that, one thing ultimately leading to the other. But, he needed more time. 

“How was your day?” Dani asked, as she sat across from him. 

Malcolm chose to respond by shrugging and rolling his eyes. 

“That fun huh? Gil said he got in touch with you about Bishop.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did Michaels want this morning?” 

He busied himself plating dinner while he responded, fearful his eyes would betray him, “Like you said, just tying up loose ends.” 

Dani eyed him speculatively, “Hey.” 

The change in her voice, frightened Malcolm. He knew that tone: worry. If she was worried, she would start analyzing his behavior. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, to try and placate her, “Yeah?” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“No. Everything is the complete opposite of okay. But, that’s not new information.” 

Dani squinted, “You’re not telling me something.” He held her eye contact, as she interrogated. “Did you figure something out with the case? You can’t be the one to move on any leads with this, Malcolm. If you know something, you need to tell me.” 

“I honestly wish I was hiding a lead on this case. At least then it wouldn’t feel like I’m just sitting around waiting for Joslynn to ruin my life.”

 _Not a lie,_ he told himself, feeling no less guilty. 

He walked around the island, plates of food in hand. Dani watched him sit hers down on the counter. As soon as Malcolm’s hand released the plate, she grabbed his wrist and held it in a death grip. 

“What the hell is that?” 

She was glaring at the tiny dot atop one of the veins on his forearm. 

“What’s what?” 

Her eyes slowly scanned the rest of his arm, particularly the crook of his elbow, before making their way up to his. Malcolm was grateful she didn’t flip his hand over. 

“Something you want to tell me?” 

“What are you talking about?”

She held up the index finger of her free hand, “Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what?” 

“Malcolm.” 

The two stared at each other silently. 

Dani’s eyes were filled with concern and fear, “What’s going on? Talk to me, please.” 

“Nothing’s going on, Dani. That’s what’s so frustrating.” 

“I’m not talking about the case. I’m talking about you.”

Malcolm pulled his arm away and ran his hands through his hair, “What do you want to know? That I’m miserable? That I’m terrified for your safety every waking moment you’re not in my sight? That I can’t stop thinking about Joslynn and what else she plans to do to completely ruin my life?!” 

By the time he finished the rant, he was yelling. He’d never yelled at her before. 

She ignored that fact completely, too busy fixating on one thing, “Else?” 

He looked up at her confused, “What?”

“You said ‘what _else_ she plans to do’.” 

For a split second a part of him was proud of her for catching his slip.That pride was short-lived. Malcolm took a step back and threw his hands up in frustration, pointing at the stacks of files covering the island, “Look around, Dani. She’s got enough leverage to put me in prison for the rest of my life. She knows where we live. They’ve bugged my place once already. They threatened you in yours. Who knows how many copies of that video exist and how many people already have it. Can you honestly see a scenario where this ends well? Truly? Because I can’t.” 

The rant had initially been intended to distract her from the mark on his arm. Once he started, though, the words just flew out of his mouth. The reality he hadn’t yet spoken aloud. There was no way out of this. 

Dani got up from the chair, closed the distance between them, and hugged Malcolm. It took a moment for him to respond to the gesture. Then, his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” she whispered. 

* * *

“Can you honestly see a scenario where this ends well? Truly? Because I can’t.” 

Dani looked up at Malcolm. His eyes were wild. The pulse she’d covertly checked while gripping his wrist was through the roof. The mark on his arm, all the signs were there. She knew them well. 

His voice cracked, as he finished the tirade. She jumped out of the chair and went to him, pulling him close to her. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” she whispered, hoping he believed the false confidence she put forth. 

After a few moments, Malcolm’s grip on her loosened, and Dani pulled back slowly. As she did, she caught a glimpse of his neck. Another small dot stood out against his light complexion. Her stomach turned at the sight. 

She knew what she had to do. 


	6. Chapter 6

As Dani released her hug, Malcolm could feel the cold weight of dread return to his chest. While she held him, however briefly, it had fled, unable to combat her natural warmth. When she was near him, he actually felt hope.

Malcolm noticed her furrowed eyebrows, as she pulled away from him. She was avoiding eye contact. Wheels were turning.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dani looked up at him, a newfound determination seeping from every pore, “I meant what I said. We are going to figure this out. But, don’t think for a second that your little distraction tactic worked.” Her hand ran across his shoulder and down until she reached his forearm. She pulled it closer, eyeing the mark, and rubbed her fingers across it gently. 

A silent panic swept over Malcolm. He tried to think of a viable excuse, anything he could say to throw her off the scent. But, his ability to focus was practically non-existent. His mind was a chaotic fog.

Again, Dani analyzed every inch of his forearm. The longer she scanned his skin, the more irritated he became. It only worsened when she started to flip his arm over. Malcolm pulled away and crossed them before she had a chance to see the dot on the back of his hand. When he did, her eyes jumped to his, trying to read him. 

She really would make a great profiler. On any other day he would applaud her skills of perception. Today, they were his Moriarty. 

The silence became oppressive, further agitating him. “What?!” he finally exclaimed, while he stared back at her. 

Dani was calm, collected, “You’re not going to tell me are you?” 

He rolled his eyes in frustration, scratching the back of his neck, “Tell you what, Dani?”

She pursed her lips and ran her tongue across her teeth behind them. Then, she walked over and grabbed her jacket off the hook behind the door. 

“Where are you going?” Malcolm huffed. 

“To church,” she replied dryly, stuffing her arms in the jacket. When he cocked his head to the side in confusion, she glared at him, “There. Now we’re both liars.” 

His heart sank. The door slammed. 

_ You’ll lose the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to you.  _

* * *

When Dani reached the apartment, the door was already cracked open, as per usual. The familiar scent of leather mixed with whiskey and cinnamon, greeted her like an old friend. She could’ve walked the entire place blindfolded and never made a mistake. Two years ago, when she was at her lowest, this place was practically her home. Memories of the first days she spent here bombarded her senses, as she slowly walked toward the living room. 

“How bad is it?” Gil’s voice found her before she spotted him, seated on the couch, head buried in his hands. 

Dani sat down robotically next to him, eyes forward, nervously picking at the hem of her shirt. She opened her mouth to answer and the gravity of the situation overwhelmed her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. At the sight of them, Gil quickly sat up and shifted to the cushion next to her. 

“Dani?” 

Reluctantly, she turned toward him and swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat. “Malcolm’s using,” the whispered words practically choked her as they exited. 

His head jerked backward, as though he’d just been struck, “He’s what?” 

She couldn’t bear to say it again. Instead, Dani simply looked up at him and silently sobbed. 

After a stunned pause, Gil regained his composure, “Are you sure?”

She nodded, “He’s been acting erratic the past few days. Hyperactive, easily agitated, shaky.”  
Ever the optimist, Gil interrupted, “No offense, Powell, but that’s Bright on a typical day.” 

Dani couldn’t stifle the single huffed laugh that burst forth. Immediately following, the tears began anew. She wiped her cheek, “He has track marks, Gil.” The lieutenant’s eyes widened. “Two for sure, on his forearm and neck. But, I think there’s a third on his hand. I couldn’t get a good look.”

He sighed, accepting Dani’s assessment, “Shit,” and rubbed his forehead, as he processed the information. “You think he’s only been doing it a few days or just unable to hide the effects anymore?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but the tracks I saw were fresh. The personality changes are too. I’m hoping it’s only been the two or three times. Whatever he’s on, I think he dosed in pretty quick succession. Injecting should be hitting him with some serious side effects, though, not just the wild eyes and extra shaky hands.” 

“You think he’s capable of hiding that level of aftermath?” 

Dani took a deep breath. The tears had slowed and she wiped the remaining evidence from her cheeks. “I was.” She fleetingly glanced at him, her expression filled with shame and fear. 

The lieutenant leaned forward, re catching her gaze deliberately, “And look at you now.” 

The stinging in her eyes returned. “We have to help him, Gil. With this. With Joslynn. He can’t go back to prison. They’ll... I can’t lose him. Please.” The end of the plea came out in broken sobs, as Dani leaned forward into his chest. 

Gil embraced her, gently rubbing her back as she tried to catch her breath, “We will. Bright’s not going anywhere.” When Dani pulled back, he smiled down at her reassuringly. “Let’s go help our boy.” 

She nodded, collecting herself, before standing and following him out the door. 

* * *

When the door slammed behind Dani, Malcolm stood in place for some time, staring at it, silently praying it would reopen any second. When it didn’t, the echo of his psyche’s prediction rang out in his head. 

_ You’ll lose the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to you.  _

The thought of losing Dani was unbearable. Instantly, he felt the onset of the panic attack. The hyperventilating came first. Try as he might, he couldn’t slow his breathing back to normal. It was making him light headed. That and the already-elevated heart rate were a bad combination. The room started to tilt and he reached toward the counter for support. His chest felt like it was going to rip in two.

Malcolm looked down at the mark on the back of his right hand. Maybe he was imagining it, but he could somehow feel his pulse in that exact spot. Even resting on the counter, his arms were shaking uncontrollably. In fact, his whole body was trembling, as if he were freezing to death. Meanwhile, he was burning up and sweating profusely. 

Water. He needed water. 

The bottle cooled his hands, as he attempted to twist off the lid. The tremors were so bad that he couldn’t get a good enough grip.

_ Seriously?  _

After trying three times, he let out a frustrated growl and practically threw it back into the fridge, opting for a glass and water from the tap instead. Halfway through the second glass, Malcolm’s stomach rejected the liquid, and he got violently ill. It hit with such a shock that he choked on the drink he was taking. The glass fell from his hand, shattering once it landed on the kitchen floor. He leaned over the sink and heaved. With the exception of the liquid, nothing exited. As Malcolm rinsed his mouth and the sink, he realized why. 

He hadn’t eaten anything in a day and a half.

_ That can’t be right, _ he thought, looking at his watch and retracing his steps, the parts he could accurately remember, at least. 

Crepes. That was 7:15 yesterday morning. On the counter sat the untouched plates of food he’d made for Dani and himself an hour earlier. How did he not eat a single thing in 36 hours?

_ You spent six of those hours strung out _ , his psyche smugly reminded him.  _ And the other thirty fighting the urge to shoot up again.  _

_ Or doubled over begging for death, _ he added.

Once he cleaned up the scattered fragments of glass from the floor, Malcolm sat at the bar, pulled the plate over, and cautiously nibbled on the contents. Wondering how it was possible for everything to go so incredibly wrong so quickly. 

* * *

After eating a third of the food on his plate, Malcolm stopped. His stomach was already unhappy with him, given it had been completely empty for so long. He was putting the plate in the dishwasher when the apartment door opened. 

His heart leapt and he rushed around the island, “Dani, I-- Gil?”

The lieutenant entered behind her, closing the door and offering a compassionate smile.

Malcolm’s eyes bounced between the two of them, warily, “Did something happen with the case?”

Dani shook her head and took a deep breath, “No. This isn’t about the case.” 

_ Fuck _ .

He straightened his posture, trying to hide the pure exhaustion that had permeated his entire body. “So, what is it about?” 

The eye roll she gave him was subtle, but present nonetheless. It was a tiny gesture, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it irritated Malcolm for some reason. 

“We both know what this is about.” Dani took a step toward him and stopped when he crossed his arms defiantly. “Talk to us. Please. If you don’t want to talk to me, then talk to Gil. I don’t care, just let us help you.” 

“What do you want to know?” Malcolm deflected.

Gil leaned against the staircase.

Dani answered, “How long?” 

“How long what?” The more she danced around the subject the more agitated Malcolm became. He refused to say the words before she did. The tremors in his hands were getting worse. Balling them into fists did nothing. Why was Gil meddling with the keys in his pocket so loudly? 

“Please don’t. I know, Malcolm. Gil knows. We want to help.” 

“If you want to help me, FIND JOSLYNN!” He hadn’t initially intended to yell the retort, but everything was catching up to him. The case, the withdrawal, the deception, all of it was coming to a head and the anger he’d been bottling up over Joslynn’s tactics had reached its breaking point. 

Dani stared at him in wide-eyed shock. 

“We’re going to,” Gil’s voice was so calm it was almost unsettling, “but that’s not the most important thing right now.” 

“The hell it isn’t.” Malcolm argued.

“YOU are the most important thing right now,” Dani corrected, as she continued her steps toward him.

“If we don’t find her, my days are numbered!” His arms flew outward in their direction, “You both get that right?” 

This time Gil answered him, “Bright, finding Josylnn, clearing your name, none of that matters if you OD the next day.

_ You’re fucked regardless, as soon as that drug test comes back _ , his psyche sneered.

_ Shit _ . 

When that test comes back positive, he’ll be back in prison in a matter of hours, whether they’ve found Joslynn or not. The realization hit him so hard it knocked the wind out of him.

He was going back to prison. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Joslynn had outsmarted him from the beginning. His heartbeat pounded so loudly in his head that it made his ears ring. Malcolm could feel the tremors in his hands spreading up his arms and throughout the rest of his body. The fear, the rage, the misery, had no outlet.

Dani stopped a foot away from him and reached out for the shaking hand at his side. He stepped back, pulling his arm out of her reach. 

“Stop.” he warned, too many emotions coursing through him at once. 

She didn’t listen and took another step forward. 

“Leave me alone, Dani.” 

“I’m not going to let you shut me out,” she replied, refusing to give up. 

When he tried to take another step in reverse, his back hit the counter. Dani closed the distance between them and reached for the side of his face. “You’re not alone, Malcolm.” 

He jerked away from her, “Don’t.”

“Powell,” Gil moved closer to them.

“I know exactly what you’re going through.” Her arms began to wrap around him. 

“NO. YOU DON’T!” Malcolm flung his arms out, knocking hers down off of him. The force of the gesture made her stumble backward. 

“Hey!” Gil was in front of him in an instant, his hand pressing against Malcolm’s chest to make sure he stayed where he was. 

That wasn’t a problem. He was frozen in place, petrified, as he stared at Dani. She returned his gaze, utterly shocked at what he’d done. Malcolm’s eyes refused to blink and his mouth hung open. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, the stuttered inhales choked in his throat. Everything felt like he was under water. There was pressure in his head. Gil was talking, but it was so muffled that he couldn’t tell what he was saying. 

Malcolm clumsily shuffled sideways, desperate to run from his actions, but incapable of performing the task. 

“Bright,” Gil repeated. 

He held a hand up to silence his mentor. The ache behind his sternum stabbed at him, once again threatening to rip through his chest. His eyes found Dani’s, guilt and shame pouring from every part of him. 

“Da--” Before he could finish her name, his knees buckled and he fell to the floor, arms forward. Malcolm’s torso spasmed, involuntarily bending him in half on the ground. The pain had never felt like this before, like it could break his spine in half with the force of the anguish.

Dani knelt by his head, “Malcolm?!” 

“What’s happening?” Gil looked to her for guidance. 

“I think it’s withdrawal. This happened to me the night before I OD’d.”

“AHHHHHHHHH,” Malcolm writhed in pain between them, gasping for breath between screams.

“What can we do?” Gil begged. 

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, “Nothing.” She pulled Malcolm’s head into her lap and stroked his hair. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, trying to comfort him as his body twitched and flailed. “It’ll be over soon.” 

Gil watched in horror as the agony continued. Dani didn’t even bother to wipe the tears.

For eleven minutes, Malcolm cried out in anguish, his arms wrapped around himself. Dani held his head, keeping the hair off of his face, and dabbed his forehead with the cold washcloth Gil had retrieved from the bathroom. 

When it finally subsided, Malcolm was drenched in sweat from head to toe. His muscles eventually relaxed and his body stretched out. He lay there, half-conscious, groaning quietly, for some time.

Gil was sitting on the floor at his feet, head resting against one of the kitchen cabinets, eyes closed.

Malcolm opened his eyes and looked up at Dani. Tears immediately filled them, clouding the crystal blue. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, the pain in his face now, was far worse than it had been a few moments ago. “I’m so sorry, Dani.” He repeated the phrase a dozen times. 

Gil quietly watched them. 

“I know,” she assured, taking his hand in hers. “But, you have to talk to us. I’m begging you.” 

He nodded, tears falling down the side of his face. After a moment’s pause, Malcolm gingerly pulled himself up into a seated position and leaned back against the side of the fridge. The three of them sat on the kitchen floor together, Dani and Gil anxiously waiting. 

Malcolm cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, “Two nights ago, after Dani fell asleep, I went to one of the addresses we found - a nail salon frequented by Joslynn. I knew it was too late, or early rather, for her to be there. I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Gil and Dani made brief eye contact, as Malcolm continued, “On my way back, a garbage truck stopped in front me when I was trying to cross a street. I tried to go around it. Then, two men attacked me, pinned me against a wall, and one of them injected something into my hand.” He held up his right hand, showcasing the mark on the back. “Based on the effects, and the Niners’ history, I’m assuming it was heroin.” 

“That’s where the scrapes on your face came from,” Dani noted. 

“Yes. The next day I was already feeling some substantial side effects. Then, I figured out the apartment was bugged. And,” he looked over at Dani, “you called about Joslynn being in your apartment. Gil offered to give me a ride home, but I wanted him to get to you as soon as possible. So, I told him I’d walk the few blocks to hail a cab. While I was walking, a boy on a scooter crashed on the sidewalk. When I knelt down to help him, his dad snuck up behind me and injected something into my neck.” He pointed to the mark there. 

“Wait,” Dani held her hand up, “They used the little boy as bait?” 

Malcolm nodded.

“Jesus,” Gil added, incredulously. 

“That night, after… you got home,” he paused looking up at Dani in contrition. 

It took her a second to understand his guilt. Then, she remembered what had happened when she returned to the apartment. “You were still high.” 

Malcolm swallowed, “Yeah.” The two stared at each other for a moment. The hurt in Dani’s eyes was a dagger to his heart. 

“Heroin again?” Gil asked. 

“I think the second time was a cocktail. Certain aspects of the heroin high were there. But, it also felt a lot like that night the box of cocaine exploded in the club.” 

“Speedball?” Dani suggested.

He nodded, “That’s what I’m thinking.”

Gil just shook his head, stunned. 

“And the third time?” Dani was eying the dot on his forearm. 

Malcolm lowered his head, picking at his fingernails, “The third time… was voluntary.” 

Dani took a slow, deep breath, controlling her response carefully. Gil simply stared at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“The man that injected my neck put something in my pocket before he ran off: a syringe. He said it was ‘for later’. I went to throw it away when I got home, but I couldn’t do it. The effects were already hitting me pretty hard. So, I hid it in the nightstand. That night, last night, these attacks started. I woke up and thought for sure I had internal bleeding or something. I ended up in the bathroom half the night getting sick from the pain, and withdrawal. Then, today happened.” 

“What happened today?” Gil inquired. 

“This morning my P.O. called. He wanted me to come to the precinct.” 

Dani’s eyes widened, Malcolm could tell she had already figured it out. “Oh, God. They drug tested you.” 

“Yep.” 

Gil rubbed his forehead, “Son of a bitch.”

“Malcolm,” Dani’s voice was panicked. 

“I know. It doesn’t matter if we find Joslynn or not now. As soon as that test comes back positive, I’ll be the property of the State of New York - again.”

Dani’s hands slowly covered her mouth. 

“The best part is, Chris knew.” 

Gil’s head shot up, “What do you mean he ‘knew’?”

“He knew the test was going to come back positive. He asked if I was nervous, I lied and said I wasn’t. Then he said ‘we both know you should be’.”

“He’s working with Joslynn,” Dani gasped. 

Malcolm sighed, “So it would seem. Anyway, when I got back home, the attacks happened again, multiple times. At one point I passed out from the pain. After that, when another started, I just couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, the realization that I’m going back to prison, it was all too much for me to handle. So, I shot up on purpose. I’m not proud of it, but I did.” 

“Bright, you had no idea what was in that syringe. You could’ve died.” Gil’s voice was stern, yet it cracked on the final word.

Malcolm looked repentantly at his surrogate father, “I know.” 

Minutes passed, as the three of them sat in silence on the floor, processing the information. 

Without warning, Dani stood, determination coloring every inch of her face, “So, that leaves us one option, then.” 

Both men looked up at her questioningly. 

“We out Chris as being in Joslynn’s pocket, before the test results get back.” 

Malcolm and Gil stood, listening intently as she continued, “Then it’s compromised and they have to retest you. Three days is the longest either of those drugs will show on a urine test. If you have a faster metabolism that can be even shorter. Negative drug tests come back in around 24 hours, but the positive ones take longer. They do additional analysis to detect which exact substances have been used. Those don’t usually come back for days, sometimes even a full week. So we out Chris, the results come back positive, and when they retest, you’ll be clean.” 

“Are you sure about the timeframe?” Malcolm asked, afraid to allow himself to feel hope. 

Dani tilted her head to the side, “You’re not the only one with experience in this department.” 

Both of them looked to Gil for approval. 

He slowly nodded his head, “All of this is reliant on us connecting Chris to Joslynn. And we don’t have a lot of time. Powell, call JT. Tell him to meet us at the precinct.” 

“All of us?” Malcolm asked. 

“Yes, all of us. You’ve officially lost the right to privacy. Until all of this is over, you’ve got a permanent shadow, 24/7. That’s for both prevention and protection.” 

“Fine by me,” the profiler replied, beaming. 

Dani turned back toward them, “JT is on his way. Said he would be there in twenty minutes.” 

“Perfect,” Gil answered. “Bright, get dressed. It’s time to go to work.” 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

It took Malcolm two tries to slip the phone into the front pocket of his jeans. His limbs were still shaking uncontrollably. Despite the worsening side effects of the withdrawal, he couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face. 

Gil glanced over from the driver’s seat, “What’s that smirk about?”

Dani playfully rolled her eyes, answering from the back seat, “He’s going back to work.”

Malcolm turned to face her from the passenger seat, raised his eyebrows in excitement, and nodded like a hyperactive puppy. The pure joy that was emanating from every part of him was infectious. He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt and scratched his forearm vigorously. When he did, the phone in his pocked vibrated once again. He answered. 

“Does she have it?”

Gil made eye contact with Dani via the rear view mirror. 

Malcolm continued, “No, no, no. Topiramate. Two very different things. Wait. What’s the brand name? Shit. I know this. Topamax. It’s there? I knew I saw it! Can you drop it off at the precinct? I seriously owe you one. Thanks, Ains!” After he ended the call, he looked up at his fellow passengers. Dani and Gil were both staring at him, as they pulled into the parking spot in front of the precinct. “That was Ainsley. She’s currently raiding our mother’s substantial inventory of medications for me.”

Dani was taken by surprise, “At 1:45 in the morning?”

“Mm-hmm” Malcolm responded in earnest.

“That’s the kind of sentence that makes me feel like I should be concerned,” Gil declared, unbuckling his seatbelt, “Well,  _ more _ concerned.” 

Malcolm chuckled as they exited the car, “Not at all. It's an anticonvulsant to help with the tremors, until,” he gestured up and down his entire body, “all this passes. At this point I don’t think I can even hold a pen.”

His companions nodded, as they approached the building. Once they entered the bullpen Dani went straight to her desk, grabbed her laptop, and set up in the conference room. Gil stepped into his office, exiting with a spare computer. He jerked his head toward the conference room when he handed it to Bright.

“Have Dani log you in.” 

The profiler nodded, setting up across from her at the table. 

Gil started a pot of coffee before, joining them. 

Malcolm’s phone buzzed. “Ainsley’s here,” he proclaimed, as he jumped up and headed toward the door. He passed a decidedly stunned JT on the way out. 

The detective poked his thumb in Malcolm’s direction as he darted out the office door, “How is he here right now?”

Dani and Gil shared a meaningful look before she turned back to him, “There’s something you need to know, JT.” 

Malcolm rushed back into the room, prescription bottle in hand. He stopped half way between the door and the table, when he saw JT, arms crossed, staring at him. The profiler knew in an instant that Dani and Gil had filled their teammate in on everything he confessed on his kitchen floor. Telling him was necessary, Malcolm knew that. However the shame didn’t disappear, due to necessity. It flushed his face, as he awaited his friend's judgement. JT had every right to think less of him, but that didn’t change how much it would hurt. 

The detective nodded upward in greeting, “Welcome back, man.”

Malcolm smiled, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, “Thanks.” 

“Okay,” Gil began, “JT is on work history.”

“I’ve got bank records,” Dani added.

“Anything they print,” Gil’s finger wagged between himself and the profiler, “we go through with a fine-tooth comb.” 

“Got it,” he replied.

Fifteen minutes later, Dani had printed a mountain of financial records. Gil peered down through his glasses at the fine print, highlighting lines as he went. 

Malcolm tried to hold the packet of papers still in his hand. It was like he was having a seizure. Both of his arms were trembling so much that he couldn’t read the words. After trying to tense his muscles enough to steady them, he finally gave up and slammed the packet down in the table. 

Three sets of eyes turned in his direction. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, leaning in to read the lines of numbers. 

“How long will the meds take?” JT asked sympathetically. 

He shrugged, “Six to twelve hours, most likely, before any noticeable change.” When he saw the concern on their faces he added, “I’m fine. Just frustrated.” 

“You know it’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Dani’s personal experience resonated with her words. 

He sighed and met her compassionate gaze with his own appreciative one, “I know.”

“We all do. So, you don’t have to try and hide anything,” Gil’s glasses were perched on the end of his nose as he looked at Bright over top of them. “We’re all here for you. Okay?”

Malcolm eyed each of them as he responded, “Thank you.” 

* * *

Forty-five minutes in and they were still swimming in professional and financial records. It turned out Chris Michaels had a number of accounts open at various banks throughout the city. 

Malcolm was struggling to stay focused on the task at hand. He read and reread the same deposit line four times before it finally registered. Immediately, he flipped back a few pages, and started marking other lines. Then, he pulled out his phone and started frantically typing. When he finished, he wrote something at the top of the page and circled it.

“Uh, guys. I think I found something.” 

“Finally,” Dani dropped her packet and rubbed her eyes, as Malcolm got up and made his way to the opposite side of the table. 

“Eleven weeks ago, Michaels started making cash deposits into three separate accounts once a week. The deposits were never the same amount, sometimes a thousand, sometimes two, sometimes six hundred. If you add all of these deposits up…” he tapped the number written at the top of the page, “$47,800.”

JT whistled. 

“Yeah,” Malcolm agreed, then he turned back toward Gil, “That’s got to be it.” 

The lieutenant stood to stretch his legs, “You’re probably right, but the problem is none of that links Micheals to either of the Bennets.”

Malcolm’s short-live excitement fizzled. Gil was right. He dug his nails into palms, scratching, as he watched his boss pace the floor. 

They were so close, but it still wasn’t enough. 

JT broke the silence, “Well, it’s not a connection to the Bennets either, but,” he turned his laptop around pointed at the screen. “Nine months ago Chris Michaels was rejected for a promotion to detective. File cites ‘questionable psych. responses’ as well as a few run-ins with superior officers.” 

Gil stopped pacing, “So, he’s got issues with authority.” 

“Looks that way,” JT replied. He turned the computer back around and kept reading, “After the rejection he applied to become a P.O.. Guess they figured he’d be less of a liability that way.” 

Malcolm huffed, sarcastically. 

“Right?” JT’s eyes were speeding back and forth as he skimmed the records, “Hold up. Guess who our boy’s partner was before he transferred.” 

“Who?” The three of them begged in unison. 

“Jonathan Serratos.” 

Dani pulled the end of the pen she’d been absent-mindedly chewing out of her mouth, “As in the guy you questioned about the two missing ammo cartridges?” 

Gil walked around to JT’s side of the table, “The very same,” and leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen.

“That’s no coincidence,” Malcolm noted, his excitement returning. 

“Definitely not.” Gil finished the remainder of the coffee in his mug, and pointed at Dani and him, “You two keep digging in the financial records; check for any small businesses that can be linked back to Niners or associates. JT and I will bring Mr. Serratos back for another chat.” 

* * *

Malcolm stood behind the mirrored glass in the observation room. His heart was pounding in his chest, only partially due to the withdrawal. Serratos could be their missing link, the thing that connected Chris to the Bennets, his get out of Jail free card - well, for the drug test at least. Dani entered the room with two cups of coffee. He gratefully accepted the one she offered him. 

Dani rubbed her eyes, prompting him to check his watch: 4:09am. None of them had slept. Malcolm had gotten less than five hours over the course of the last three days. He was running on coffee and desperation. Funny how those two things were enough to keep him going. 

Dani looked down at his still-trembling hand, “You doing okay?”

Malcolm stared at her for a moment, truly looking into her eyes. He sat his coffee down on the table next to them, took hers, and did the same. Then, he cupped her face in his hands softly and kissed her. As soon as their lips touched, relief swept over him, bringing with it a much-needed calm. Before he pulled completely back from her, he gently kissed her forehead. 

“I love you, Dani.” 

She smiled, “And I love you.” 

Their tender moment was interrupted when Gil and JT entered the interrogation room. 

Jonathan Serratos was a tall, thin man in his early forties. His mustache was that of a quintessential officer who grew up watching 80s cop drama reruns. He was compliant enough, given the time of day. But, that was the first thing he noted after being seated. 

“You guys know it's like four in the morning, right?” 

“Believe me, we do,” JT retorted. 

“This couldn’t wait ‘til, maybe, six?” 

Gil was in no mood for banter, “Tell us about Christopher Michaels.” 

Malcolm watched the man’s reactions intently. 

Jonathan’s eyes widened for a split second, before he cloaked his tell, “Chris? What do you want to know?”

“The two of you were partners up until nine months ago. What happened?” 

Serratos shifted, causing the metal around his wrists to clang against the table, “I’m sure you already know this, but Chris put in for a promotion and got denied. After that he changed, was pretty bitter, did the job half-assed on a good day. Let a few misdemeanors off with a warning just for spite. Brass gave him a talking to. Next thing I know he’s transferring to the P.O. department.”

“You keep in touch with him?” JT asked from the corner of the room.

“We were partners for eight years. He was family. Yeah we kept in touch.” 

“How long has he been in bed with the Niners?” Gilt asked, point blank. 

“Excuse me?” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, “He’s deflecting. He knows.” 

“Yep,” Dani agreed. “Now they just have to get it out of him.”

The profiler’s hand went to his abdomen and his eyes closed. His face winced in pain. 

Dani grabbed the cup from his hand and sat it on the table, as Malcolm slowly crouched down and sat against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees. He was doing everything he could to stay silent and not interrupt the interrogation. 

“Breathe,” Dani reminded him, kneeling. “It’s like childbirth: horrible pain, but you have to remember to breathe.”

Malcolm would have laughed at the analogy, if he had the capacity. At the moment, he was too busy biting his lips closed to keep the blood curdling screams from escaping. 

“Listen,” Gil rubbed his forehead then leaned forward on the table, “It’s four fifteen in the damn morning. None of my team has slept, so we’re a little on edge. You’re a cop. You know the interrogation techniques. So, why don’t we just cut the bullshit and show our hands? We know Chris is in with the Niners’ royalty. We also know there’s a connection between the Bennets, Chris, and you being the one to transport that ammo when two cartridges went missing. A cop trafficking illegal armor-piercing bullets to known cop killers. They’ll crucify you in a heartbeat. You tell us what we need to know about Michaels and Joslynn Bennet, and you’ll get leniency for the stolen ammo. That’s the deal.” 

Jonathan didn’t even try to deny that he knew anything. Without skipping a beat, he demanded, “I want immunity.” 

“You know I can’t guarantee that. Leniency is the deal. Maybe a nice low-security situation, cut sentence for good behavior, then a little probation. White-collar style.”

Beads of sweat ran down Malcolm’s face. Dani was in front of him, her hands on his knees. Suddenly, the pain intensified. His eyes popped open and he grabbed her wrist tightly. 

“It’s okay. Look at me,” she grabbed the back of his neck with her free hand and leaned in, an inch away from his face. Her eyes locked in on his, “Breathe. Breathe. Your body wants more. It’s trying to force you to use, to make it stop. You’re stronger than the pain. Just breathe.” 

Malcolm’s hand was still gripping her wrist so tightly it was cutting off her circulation. His gaze never left hers, as his chest heaved rapid breaths in sync with hers.

Jonathan contemplated Gil’s offer for a moment, “People know who you are, Arroyo. Around the precincts. You’re Mr. By The Book Always Do What’s Right.” 

When Serratos paused for a second, Gil simply raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. 

“Have you ever even been tempted? Or is that just not something within your realm of possibility?” 

“Of course I’ve been tempted,” he admitted. “Everyone has. It isn’t about whether or not we experience temptation. It’s about how we react to it.”

Serratos grinned and nodded, as though Gil’s response solidified every rumor he’d ever heard about him. “Then, I want your word - since clearly yours actually means something. Your word that you’ll do everything you can to protect my son.” 

JT straightened his posture. Gil’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Your son?” 

Finally, the torture subsided. Malcolm stretched out his legs and Dani stood, offering her hands to help him up. He ran his hands through his now-damp hair, to get it off of his face. As though he hadn’t just spent the last five minutes on the floor in anguish, he asked Dani, “Did he just say son?”

Jonathan ignored the lieutenant’s inquiry and extended his hand as far across the table as possible, “Your word.” 

Gil shook.

Relief spread across Jonathan’s face and he nodded to himself. “I was there the night Joslynn Bennet was arrested in the sting op. The next day, Chris and I had plans to meet for lunch, to catch up and all that. So, I told him the whole story of the operation and how the arrest went down. Thought nothing of it. Cops share collar stories all the time. A week later, my son, Patrick, gets busted for dealing. Pot, thankfully, nothing harder.” 

Malcolm’s eyes fell at the comment. Dani silently took his hand in hers, banishing the rush of guilt that threatened. 

Jonathan continued, “Pat’s nineteen. It was his first offense. But, he was still dealing, luckily in minor league quantities. The judge was kind and didn’t force any jail time on him. Instead he got a year’s worth of probation. Chris went to his supervisor and specifically asked for Pat to be one of his clients. Said they already had a great relationship and that he felt like he could really help the kid. So, they let him be Pat’s P.O.. And everything’s great.” 

“Until?” JT amended. 

“Until five weeks ago. I get a weird text from Chris at like one in the morning. Said he needed to talk about something important. Couldn’t be over the phone. Sends me an address. I’m thinking he’s in a bad place, maybe thinking of hurting himself or something, so I’m out the door in minutes. When I get there he’s sitting in his car. I get in. As soon as I sit down, Chris points a gun at me. Tells me that these ammo cartridges are about to be transported to the marshals. He hands me these two look-alike rounds and says I needed to swipe these for two of the real ones.” 

“They used his son to blackmail him,” Malcolm had already deduced the rest of the story. “That’s why he wants assurances that someone will protect him now.” 

Jonathan confirmed the profiler’s analysis, “I refused, of course. Then, Chris threatened to plant a weapon, send Pat to jail, and get word out that he was a cop’s kid. We both know what they’d do to him if that happened.” 

Malcolm’s hand instinctively went to his side, not in pain this time. Beneath the hand, and the material of his shirt, was the evidence of his own experience inside the system. A three-inch scar that was still bright purple, to remind him of exactly how close he had come to death in prison.

“So, I agreed. I swapped the ammo en route to Newark and brought the real rounds back to Chris the same day. Haven’t heard a single word from him since.” 

“Has he still been working with your son?” Gil asked. 

“Yeah. As far as I know.” 

“Anything else we should know?” 

“The last thing Chris said, when I handed him the ammo, was ‘bright’. Take that for what it’s worth.” 

Gil’s head whipped around toward the mirror behind him. Dani’s turned even faster. Her mouth sat agape, as her eyes screamed in horror.

Malcolm didn’t look at her. He stared, unfocused, through the glass, at nothing in particular. 

_ Why are you so shocked? _ His psyche asked, for once not taunting him. Genuinely curious.  _ Joslynn wanting you dead isn’t news.  _

It was a fair point. But, Malcolm had assumed that the drugs and potential return to prison were the end game, that Joslynn was banking on him accidentally overdosing thanks to her crafty set up. And if for whatever reason he didn’t, then he would go back to prison and she’d have him executed. Never once did it occur to him that he might just randomly get shot in the street - with a cartridge capable of slicing through kevlar like it was tissue paper. 

_ And now there’s that.  _

* * *

As soon as the transporting officers picked up Serratos, the team rushed back to the office. JT detoured down another hallway at Gil’s request and returned to the unit with four protective vests. Gil practically threw one at Malcolm. 

“You’re in one of these until further notice,” he demanded. 

The profiler scoffed, as he obliged, “You do remember the ammo is armor-piercing right?”

Gil snapped, “Yeah. And without the vest, those cartridges will blow a hole the size of a golf ball through your torso.” 

The entire room froze at the reply. 

As soon as he said it, he backpedaled, “Sorry.” 

Malcolm waved him off, “It’s okay. I deserved it.” 

“You really did,” Dani added, velcroing the last part of her vest in place. “No more morbid assholeishness.” 

He grinned at her phrasing and she tried to glare at him, while biting back a reciprocal smile. 

As they finished gearing up, Gil barked out orders, “JT and Dani go together. Bright you’re with me. When we get there, you two take the back exit. Bright and I will go in the front. Hopefully, the time will work to our advantage and he’ll be asleep. Stay together. And be smart.” 

As they exited the building, Malcolm grabbed Dani’s hand and squeezed it once. She returned the gesture, before they split toward the different vehicles. Their eyes met quickly before he ducked into the passenger seat of Gil’s car. 

As soon as he got in, Gil popped a key off of his ring and tossed it to Malcolm. “Glove box,” he explained as he backed out and headed down the street. 

Bright opened it to find a gun in a holster. 

“Use it if you have to,” the lieutenant approved.

The profiler stared at his mentor, “This is the second time you’ve--”

Gil cut him off, “I’m well aware.” 

“You’re going to get in some serious trouble for this, aren’t you?” 

“Probably. But I’m already letting you work the case, in the midst of a pretty substantial drug issue, so what difference does it make?”

Malcolm pulled the weapon out of the glove box and locked it back, “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, kid,” Gil glanced over at him as frequently as he could. 

“I know. I just--” Malcolm’s phone buzzed in his pocket. When he pulled it out, he had a message from the all-too-familiar “UNKNOWN” sender. 

“What is it?” Gil asked, the look on the profiler’s face worrying him. 

“It’s an address: 350 Central Park West,”

“Say that again?"

Malcolm repeated it. 

“That’s the captain’s address,” Gil pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street.

“The list,” Malcolm remembered, “Joslynn’s got the list.” 

At that moment, his phone rang. Thankfully, Dani’s name appeared on the screen. 

“What’s going on? Why the U-Turn?” 

Malcolm put her on speaker, “I just got a text from the unknown sender. An address.” 

“It’s Captain Martinez’s,” Gil finished. “We go there first.” 

As the lieutenant spoke, Malcolm got another text, “I just got a second message. Another address: 421 West 45th.” 

JT’s voice echoed through the speaker, “That’s my address.” 


	8. Chapter 8

_ Malcolm put Dani on speaker, “I just got a text from the unknown sender. An address.”  _

_ “It’s Captain Martinez’s,” Gil finished. “We go there first.”  _

_ As the lieutenant spoke, Malcolm got another text, “I just got a second message. Another address: 421 West 45th.”  _

_ JT’s voice echoed through the speaker, “That’s my address.” _

* * *

Malcolm stared at the phone in horror. His stomach churned nervously.

_ Tally. _

Gil cursed under his breath, “Go! Bright and I will go to the captain’s. Check in as soon as you can. Be careful.”

“You too,” Dani replied, ending the call quickly. 

Bright watched as her name vanished from the screen.

“Shit,” Gil smacked the steering wheel in frustration and ran one of his hands down his goatee.

Malcolm was still staring at the now-black phone. “This is my fault,” he whispered, swallowing the bile that threatened in the back of his throat. 

“It’s not your fault,” the lieutenant countered. “Bennet was targeting cops weeks before he met you. And he had that list in the works already, too.” 

“But JT, Tally, that’s because of me.” A lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. 

Gil respected him enough not to lie. Instead, he moved on, “I don’t like that we’re separated. This feels-” 

“Like a set up,” Malcolm finished, rubbing his face with his hands. Gil nodded in agreement. “What do we do?” He looked to his surrogate father for guidance. Desperately hoping there was some veteran-cop wisdom to be shared.

“We don’t have much of a choice. We can’t take the chance that there isn’t a legitimate threat at both locations.”

“And they know that.” 

“Yep.” Gil pushed down harder on the accelerator, “You steady enough to actually fire that weapon?” 

Malcolm held his hands out in front of him. The tremors had receded from his arms and were confined back to his hands, which was improvement. But they were still trembling. He sighed, “I guess we’ll find out.”

* * *

Dani ended the call. The car screeched, as JT took a sudden left turn. 

“Call Tally,” he demanded, weaving in and out of what little traffic there was. 

She obliged as quickly as her fingers could find the name and put it on speaker. 

It rang once. 

Then, a second time. 

“Come on. Come on,” JT mumbled under his breath, willing his wife to answer. 

A third ring. 

Dani’s heart sank when Tally’s voicemail picked up, after the fourth ring. She ended the call without leaving one. 

“Tally’s going to be okay,” she assured her partner, looking over at him empathetically. For once, she knew precisely how someone else was feeling. 

“How do we know that exactly?” He was trying his best not to lose it. Although, she would have completely understood if he had.

She thought for a second, racking her brain for a reasonable answer. When it actually did occurred to her, she was anything but relieved. “Because you and Tally aren’t the targets. Bright and I are. Nothing Joslynn said to me pointed to anyone besides the two of us being her focus.” Dani paused for a moment as the realization hit her, “This is about splitting us up. Divide and conquer.” 

“Again, which part of this is supposed to convince me Tally is okay?” 

She was staring at the dash in front of her, as the revelations kept coming. “Joslynn said I would watch as Malcolm was torn apart from the inside out. That I’d be powerless to stop it. This is about what can do the most physical and psychological damage to Malcolm and, by extension, me.” Dani wondered if this was how Malcolm felt when the profile laid itself out in front of him and everything started falling into place. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if I were Joslynn--” 

“You’d be a raging bitch, whose days are numbered?” he took another screeching right turn, slamming on the gas pedal before they were completely finished. 

She huffed a laugh, “Well, yes. But, I was going to say that if I were trying to do the most damage to Malcolm, Tally isn’t the first person I’d go after. I mean think about it.” 

Dani recognized the neighborhood, they were close to JT’s apartment. 

“By that logic, neither is the captain,” he argued.

_ Shit. _

He was right.

They never finished the conversation. The car came to an abrupt halt double parked in front of the building. Neither of them cared. JT was out of the car by the time Dani got her seatbelt off. She pulled her gun from the holster and cocked it as she sprinted up the front steps after her partner. 

The Tarmels lived on the top floor of their building. Thankfully, it was a small building, containing only five floors. They raced up the stairs, JT skipping every other one as he went. By the time they reached five, they were both panting. JT fished his keys out of his pocket, as they hurried down the hall as quietly as they could. The door was locked when they reached it. Dani wasn’t sure whether that was comforting or not. 

Luckily, she had been to their place enough times to know the layout. The door opened into the living room. There were lights on everywhere and the TV volume was just loud enough to be a distraction. Dani noticed the remote on the arm of the couch and turned it down, as the two of them scanned the room. JT walked around the kitchen half wall, while she cleared the bathroom. 

Nothing. 

He took the lead as they inched down the hallway, weapons raised. Dani opened the door to the spare room. She flipped the light switch and slowly made her way to the closet, throwing the doors open quickly. 

Nothing. 

Dani hurried back out, following her partner to the master bedroom. The door was cracked. He kicked it open softly and both of them rushed in. There wasn’t any sign of Tally or of a struggle. JT took the closet this time, flinging the doors practically off the hinges. 

Nothing. 

He looked up at her, panic written all over his face, “Where is she?” Then, he screamed, “Tally!?” 

No response. 

Dani stepped back out into the hallway, her head on a swivel, looking everywhere, “There’s no other storage spaces? Hidden closets?” 

He shook his head vigorously, “No.” His eyes widened, “The roof.” 

Dani turned on her heels and sped back toward the living room, “Where’s the access door?”

“Next to the stairwell!” he answered, right behind her. 

They were out of the apartment and down the hallway in a flash. Dani stopped, her hand on the access door. “If she is up there, I’ll clear the rest of the roof.” 

He agreed and she opened the door, letting him lead once again. JT paused, only for a second, at the top of the stairs, before opening the door. Dani rushed out behind him, covering his back. The sun was just starting to come up, leaking streaks of pale blue light between the taller buildings that surrounded them. 

JT immediately whispered, “Tally.” It wasn’t an inquiry; it was a declaration. And it preceded him sprinting across the roof in her direction. Dani cleared the few structures behind which a person could potentially hide, before hurrying back to join them. 

Tally’s wrists were tied together and connected to the same restraints around her ankles. She was screaming behind a duct-taped mouth, desperately trying to tell them something. JT pulled the tape off. 

As soon as any portion of her mouth was free Tally was practically shouting at them, “I’m the decoy! They said to tell you ‘I’m the decoy’.” She turned to Dani apologetically, “And to tell you ‘powerless’.” 

“Malcolm.” 

The word somehow left her lips as both a morbid realization and a terrified prayer. “Call Gil,” she ordered, fishing her own phone out of her pocket. She could barely unlock it, fear stealing her motor skills. 

Five responseless rings and then his voicemail, “Fuck.” 

“No answer from Gil either,” he added. 

Dani looked at Tally, who was untangling her ankles, then back at her partner. She cleared her throat, but her voice broke nonetheless, “I have to go, JT.” 

“No.  _ We _ have to go,” he corrected, turning to his wife. “Go back inside. Get the Glock out of the safe and go to your mother’s. I’ll call you as soon as I can and come get you when this is all over.” He leaned over and kissed her before standing and pulling her up as well. 

“Be safe,” she said, to both of them. Dani was already sprinting toward the access door. 

Once they were on the first floor of the building, she allowed JT to pass her, so he could unlock the car. Then, Dani ran in a panic around the back of the car to the passenger side and practically dove in. 

The instant the door shut, she saw him, but at that point it was too late. In the back seat, sat a slender, albeit fit-looking man. He wore dark joggers and a black t-shirt. And his gun was pointed at the back of JT’s head. 

Dani’s hand flew to her holster in an instant.

“If you want your partner’s brain matter to decorate his dash, then feel free.” The man leaned forward slightly. Then slowly extended his arm, holding his hand out, silently demanding her weapon. She complied, indignantly. “You too,” he directed his words to JT through the rear view mirror. He begrudgingly relinquished his gun as well. 

When he did, a behemoth-sized man approached the passenger side of the car, opened the door, then stood, waiting. Dani stared at him for a moment before looking back toward her partner. 

The man in the back seat spoke again, “The lady will be coming with us.” 

“The hell she will,” JT challenged. 

In response, the man simply touched the side of the detective’s head with the barrel and pulled the hammer back.

“It’s okay, JT,” she directed the next portion toward the threat, “I’ll go. No one needs to get hurt.” 

The gun never left its position, as the giant of a man walked around to JT’s side and opened his door as well. 

“Hands on the wheel,” he commanded, his voice unnaturally deep. 

When the detective’s hands were on the wheel, the man zip tied each wrist to a different section of it, ensuring they could never touch. Once that task was completed, he shut the door and walked back toward Dani’s side. 

“You have to get to Malcolm,” she begged her partner, as a hand from outside the car grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly from it. “Tell him,” she added.

The man in the back seat exited after her and straightened his clothing, “Oh don’t worry. He’ll know.” 

* * *

Gil brought the car to an abrupt halt, illegally, in the space reserved for a fire hydrant. 

“Grab the flashlight in the arm rest,” he said as he got out. Malcolm grabbed it and exited the car, following his mentor up to the door of the home. As they went up the front steps, he pulled the gun from its holster and cocked it, hands quivering. 

“Door’s cracked,” the lieutenant whispered, carefully pushing it open further. 

None of the lights were on. The early stages of sunrise offered little additional lighting in a city full of skyscrapers. The small foyer had no room for more than the coat hooks on the wall and the stairwell to the left. Gil pointed to himself then the stairs and gestured for Malcolm to sweep the first floor. The profiler clicked the flashlight on with his left hand and rested his right atop it, gun pointed. Gil did the same, ascending the stairs as light-footed as possible. 

Malcolm crept from the foyer to the living room, the beam from the flashlight bouncing, as his hands shook. The phone in his pocket vibrated. He ignored it and continued, clearing the room before moving on to the next. A swinging door separated the living room from the kitchen. Malcolm tapped it just enough to make it clear the frame when it swung back toward him. Then, grabbed the door and pulled it open in his direction, to make sure no one could hide behind it when he entered the room.

The kitchen was windowless, everything in it bathed in black shadow. He moved the flashlight constantly, making sure he had seen every possible corner, before approaching the island. When he was about to turn around it, heavy footsteps pounded the ceiling above him: a scuffle. Malcolm turned and was halfway to the swinging door when a gunshot resonated from the second floor. The sound paralyzed him, but only for a moment. 

“GIL!”

When he yelled, a man jumped out from behind the island and rushed him. Malcolm barely had time to turn in his direction before he was tackled. His flashlight and gun slid across the hardwood floor on impact, while he scrambled to get out from under the assailant he could hardly see. He could, however, hear and the sound of metal was unmistakable. The attacker had a gun.

Malcolm’s eyes hadn’t completely adjusted to the dark, but he could at least tell what parts were darker than the room. He used this distinction to catch the man’s arm as it brought the gun around toward him. He threw his hands out blocking it just enough for the shot to miss him by mere inches. The muzzle flash blinded the profiler for a second; the shot six inches from his ear was far worse. Instantly, the left side of his head went silent. Then the ringing started, high pitched and obnoxiously loud. Malcolm held the man’s arm at bay with all his strength, slowly shifting his grip closer and closer to his wrist. Once he was close enough, he squeezed the pressure point with everything he had and bent the man’s wrist backwards. The gun fell to the floor and Malcolm quickly smacked it out of reach with his hand. 

With both of the profiler’s arms focused on the man’s right side, that had previously held the weapon, his attacker landed a square punch to Bright’s right cheek, with his free hand. Malcolm’s head whipped to the left, tiny white dots flickering throughout his vision. The man tried to go for his throat, but Malcolm swept his arm aside just in time and brought his left elbow to the side of his head, with a crack. At that, the man fell to the side, giving Malcolm enough time to get out from under him and push himself up. 

He sped toward his gun, next to the island, and managed to get his hands on it before the man kicked it and his hand. Malcolm blocked his punch, and finally landed one of his own. The attacker stumbled back slightly, then looked down at the island. Bright followed his eye line and immediately started backing up, as the man pulled a knife from the butcher block. The profiler scoured the counters for anything nearby to help defend himself. 

The assailant rushed him and Malcolm reversed his way around the island, attempting to get back to where his weapon was. He blocked a couple of poorly executed stab attempts. On the third attempt, the man juked him and faked one way before slashing in another. Malcolm dodged enough that he missed his torso, but the blade caught the top of his forearm, slicing through clothing and skin. The profiler hissed in pain, unable to properly assess the damage. 

_ Fingers are still moving, so it can’t be that bad, _ he thought morbidly.

He risked a look down, and saw a small river of blood running down his forearm and dripping off of his fingers. When his eyes raised back up, he caught a glimpse of something on the counter that could help him. The next time the attacker lunged in his direction, Malcolm grabbed the coffee pot next to him and swung it around as hard as he could, smashing it into the side of the man’s head. He went down to one knee, and screamed, pieces of glass sticking out of his skin at various points.

Finally, Malcolm retrieved his gun and pointed it at the man kneeling on the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, when a second intruder came through the swinging door, a gun in each hand, both pointed at him. Bright stared at him, unmoving. 

“Drop it,” he warned. Malcolm complied and he yelled to his companion, “Let’s go!”

The injured man got up slowly, and walked over to pick up his gun. When he did, he turned angrily and cocked it, pushing it into Malcolm’s temple. 

“Not yet!” the second man ordered, “Not until she’s ready.” He gestured toward the door and Bright’s attacker slowly lowered his weapon, before disappearing from the kitchen. The second man kept his weapons raised, giving the first enough time to escape the home. “See you soon, Malcolm Bright,” he teased, before backing out of the swinging door and making a run for it as well. 

Malcolm didn’t think twice about the two of them. He holstered his gun and sprinted to the foyer and up the stairs, “GIL?!” 

Muffled yells came from down the hall. When he turned into the room, he saw the captain and his wife on the floor, leaning against their bed, tied and mouths taped. Captain Martinez jerked his head to the left and Malcolm stepped further into the room, around the antique wardrobe that had been blocking his view. 

On the floor, in a slowly spreading pool of blood, lay Gil. 

Everything shifted into slow motion. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. The ringing within them intensified. He didn’t even make the conscious decision to speak.

“Dad?” the words exited as a whimper. Malcolm rushed to his side. 

The wound, almost dead center of the torso, was oozing crimson.

“Gil? Hey! Open your eyes for me,” He leaned his whole body weight into putting pressure on the wound, grabbing his phone with his other hand and dialing. 

“I’ve got an officer down. GSW to the middle of the torso. 350 Central Park west. Second floor last room on the right. He’s lost a lot of blood.” He didn’t wait for the reply. Instead he tossed the phone to the floor and brought his other hand to the wound as well, pushing harder. Gil groaned when he did so.

“Hey, it’s Bright. Medics are on their way.”

The lieutenant’s eyes flickered open. “Bri-” was all he could manage to say. 

“You don’t have to talk. Just stay awake for me. Okay? Just stay with me, Dad.” 

Gil’s eyes met Malcolm’s and the corner of his mouth twisted up, almost imperceptibly, beneath his facial hair. Then, his eyes rolled back, and his head fell heavily to the side. 


	9. Chapter 9

“Gil?!” Malcolm panicked. There was no way he was going to be able to do CPR while Gil was still wearing his vest. But given the bullet’s placement, it would be incredibly risky to move him. He reached out and checked the lieutenant’s pulse with blood-covered fingers, and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. “Come on, Gil. I need you to open your eyes.” 

Sirens wailed in the distance, as Captain Martinez and his wife watched the scene before them in shock. 

Malcolm pushed down harder, unable to get accurate pressure against the wound with the vest beneath his hands. There had to be blood pooling under the vest. It was everywhere. So much. He could see the flashing lights outside the bedroom window. “They’re here. Just hold on.” 

The medics rushing down the hallway sounded like a stampeding herd. They entered in a frenzy. Malcolm stepped back out of their way as one of them laid a bodyboard on the ground next to Gil. 

“Got a pulse, but it’s slowing,” he announced to the room, while another was already cutting the vest off of Gil. Again, everything moved in slow motion. When they pulled off the vest, Gil’s sweater was completely saturated. Trails of pooled crimson fell down his sides.

“How long has he been unconscious?” The third EMT asked Malcolm, pulling him from his daze. 

“Uh, only a few minutes. Less than three,” he suddenly remembered that the captain and his wife were still restrained. “Do you have a knife? Scissors?”

The medic reached into his bag and handed Malcolm a set of scissors. He knelt in front of them and clipped the ties.

The EMTs moved Gil onto the board.

“Thank you, officer…?” Captain Martinez inquired.

“Not an officer,” he stood and returned the scissors. “My name’s Malcolm Bright. I consult with Gil’s unit.” 

“You’re a profiler.” 

He nodded in response to the captain’s observation. 

One of the medics turned to Malcolm, “You riding with us?”

“Yes.”

They lifted the lieutenant and were on the move. Once they reached the first floor they laid Gil on the gurney and hurried to the ambulance. 

The sun had breached the horizon. The blue and purple haze that covered the street when they entered the home was now a golden yellow and orange. 

He followed the EMTs into the back of the vehicle. Two police cars screeched to a stop behind them, as they pulled away, to aid the captain. Malcolm watched the medics work. Oxygen, heart rate checks, pressure on the wound. They were talking to each other; he could register that much. But the details of their conversation were white noise. All he could do was stare at his father’s face. 

One of the medics glanced over at Malcolm, and did a double take, before sitting down beside him. “You’re injured too?” 

“What?” The profiler looked down at his hands and tried to wipe Gil’s dried blood on his jeans. “Oh, this isn’t mine,” he answered. 

The medic pointed at his arm and the saturated sleeve of his shirt, “But, that is.” 

Malcolm followed the man’s eyeline, genuinely confused. “Shit. Yeah. I forgot.”

The man lifted his arm and pulled the cut fabric back, inspecting the wound. “Definitely going to need sutures. Finger mobility?” 

Malcolm wiggled his fingers. 

“That’s a good sign. Switchblade?” He guessed.

“Kitchen knife.” 

“Well, at least it was a smooth blade. Stitching shouldn’t be too terrible.”

Malcolm ignored the medic’s comment, turned, and continued watching the other men work on Gil. “He’s going to make it. Right?” 

Before the man could answer, the ambulance stopped. They must have called ahead. As soon as they were completely still, the doors flew open and a team of doctors were waiting for Gil. Malcolm jumped out and quickly moved to the side. The EMTs began to relay vitals and GSW details to the doctors. 

“Bullet went straight through the kevlar. No exit wound…” 

Malcolm tilted his head to the side. He’d been so focused on helping Gil, that he hadn’t even considered the reality of the situation. That bullet completely penetrated Gil’s vest. There was only one possible explanation for it: the missing cartridges.

He followed the small crowd of people and the gurney into the emergency room entrance. The adrenaline from the fight, from seeing Gil wounded on the ground and trying to save him had only just started to fade. Now, the anger that mixed with it somehow managed to focus his mind. He pulled the phone from his pocket; a spider web of cracks littered the top left corner, from the altercation in the kitchen. 

He called Dani. It went straight to voicemail. Nausea immediately overwhelmed him. 

_ She could’ve turned it off when they got to JT's for safety, _ he attempted to talk himself down. 

_ You know she only puts it on silent, in case she needs to call in an emergency. She never turns it completely off,  _ his psyche countered.  __

Malcolm kept following the procession absent-mindedly, as he dialed JT’s phone. When they reached a set of double doors one of the doctors touched his shoulder.

“Sir, you can’t go any further. I’m sorry,” her eyes were genuinely apologetic, as she noticed the cut on his arm. “But, that needs immediate attention anyway. So, right this way.” 

The nurse, a young man who looked to be in his early twenties named Derek, rolled the stool he was sitting on over to the table at which Malcolm was seated. The profiler's injured arm was laying across it. He paid it no mind, as he desperately tried to get in contact with JT or Dani. He’d called them both multiple times with no response. The clock on his phone read 5:48, almost two hours since they’d left the precinct, since he’d heard from Dani. His gut told him something was wrong. He needed to get out of there. 

Derek investigated the cut and raised his head, “Okay if I cut this sleeve?” 

“Whatever gets me out of here the fastest,” Malcolm responded. After noticing the nurse’s response he backpedaled, “Sorry. Rough morning.” 

“Anything before 6am is rough. Much less this,” his scissors cut the fabric around Malcolm’s bicep, above the bloodstains. The sleeve dropped to his wrist, revealing the four-inch wound that angled down diagonally. The nurse inspected it closely, “You’re a cop right? Bust gone wrong?” 

“You could say that,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “My boss is in surgery and my partners are MIA. I need to make sure they’re okay. How long will this take?” 

Derek eyed the wound again, “I’d say 8-10 stitches, plus cleaning and dressing. Half an hour, ballpark.”

The profiler pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his frustration. 

“Or.”  
Malcolm’s head popped up, “Or.” 

“I clean this thoroughly, wrap it well enough to last you until you can get in touch with your team. And you come back tonight.” 

He smiled gratefully, “Deal.” 

Malcolm thanked Derek, as he finished wrapping his forearm. His phone buzzed and a message appeared on the screen; his mother was in the waiting room. When he stood to exit, he stumbled a bit, lightheaded.

Derek looked concerned, “Concussion you forgot to disclose?” 

Malcolm couldn’t help but chuckle, “Honestly, probably. But, I think this particular culprit is lack of food.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

He looked at his watch, “Nine hours ago. And an embarrassingly longer time prior to that.” 

“If I were you, I’d get something in my system before I headed out to save the day,” Derek suggested. 

“I will. Thank you.” 

Malcolm made his way out to the waiting room. Jessica was up and at his side just a few steps after he’d appeared. 

“What’s going on?” She eyed his wrapped arm. 

“It’s just a cut. I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Gil’s still in surgery. I haven’t heard anything yet.” 

“Okay.” 

“Dani and JT are MIA. I need to find them. Stay here with Gil. Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

“I will,” Jessica pulled Malcolm into a hug, reminding him how sore his body was, from the fight, from the withdrawal. Everything ached.

“Did you bring the car?” he asked. 

“Oh. Yes. Here,” Jessica handed him the keys. “Third floor of the garage.” 

“Thank you.” 

Malcolm rushed out the door and to the garage elevator. Again, he called Dani. Again, it went straight to voicemail. His stomach churned. Something was wrong. He clicked the button on the key ring to help find the car. When he was a little over halfway to it, he lurched forward, the stabbing pain in his abdomen once again rearing its ugly head. Malcolm managed to keep from crying out, breathing through the anguish as best he could, until he made it to the car. Once he was inside, he didn’t hold it in any longer. His head rested against the steering wheel, while he wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his legs up to his chest. And he screamed. 

_ You’re stronger than the pain. Just breathe. _

Dani’s voice echoed in his head. 

Malcolm wasn’t sure how much time had passed. But as soon as the pain had eased enough to permit him to drive, he lowered his feet, ready to start the car. He was about to turn the key, when his phone buzzed. 

_ Please be Dani _ , he begged.

He groaned. Another text from UNKNOWN. Malcolm’s hands trembled as he opened the message. All the air left his lungs in one agonizing exhale. His throat tightened painfully, as his lips quivered, as the image appeared. Slowly, his eyes closed, giant tears spilling out when they did. 

It was Dani. On her knees, arms behind her back, and tape covering her mouth. A trail of blood ran from a wound on the side of her forehead down her cheek. The barrel of a gun was just visible, disappearing into the dark curls beside her face. 

Malcolm stared at the photo, terror engulfing every part of him. A fresh wave of nausea hit. He barely got the door open in time to turn and heave out of the side of the car. Then, he sat up and laid his head back against the rest. 

_ Malcolm, you’re in love with this woman, are you not? _

_ Yes. _

_ We have overcome too much to start losing faith now. _

_ I need you to stay.  _

_ Is it serious?  _

_ It is for me. _

_ I love you.  _

Tears flooded his cheeks and he screamed once more. This time in anger, in fear, in utter and complete despair. 

The phone in his hand buzzed again, the second text he’d been waiting for. 

Another address. 

**159 Bridge park Drive**

**Brooklyn**

The marina. 

Malcolm opened the picture of Dani again, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He sent a quick message and sat the phone in the cup holder, before turning the ignition. 

He couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d driven to the marina. Truth be told he didn’t remember a single moment from the drive. Even the events that happened once he arrived came and went in fragments. The rage he’d experienced in that moment was all-consuming. It controlled his every thought and action. Those same emotions surged through him now, but this time they were not in control. He was. 

What was about to happen at the marina wouldn’t be fueled by blinding rage and heartache. It would be calm and calculated. The end result of an animal cornered with no other way out except to fight for its life. 

He would save Dani and protect the people that he loved at all costs.

_ This ends today.  _

* * *

A cold chill ran down Malcolm’s spine as he pulled through the gate to the marina. He parked next to the building where Bennet had tortured Dani. Where he’d held a gun to their heads while interrogating them. As he pulled the vest over his head and fastened the velcro, he saw Dani in that moment. He saw the blood dripping down her chin as she stared at him, gasping for air she’d been denied. Malcolm closed his eyes, banishing the vision from his mind. 

The marina was a completely different place when bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. People were walking the piers, jogging, laughing with their companions. Malcolm walked by the place where he shot Damian. Staring at the space as he passed, he could practically see the car and Damian on the ground grabbing his leg. Malcolm reached the correct dock and turned, then pulled his weapon from its holster and crept slowly down the line of boats.

The small yachts in the slips on both sides created a corridor, hiding him from those on the pier. Malcolm assumed he was heading to the same slip, forty-six, in some morbidly poetic attempt on Joslynn’s part to right his wrongs. However, the slip was still empty. When he reached the end of the dock he was confused. He hadn’t realized it continued to the left, given it had been the middle of the night the last time he’d been here. 

When Malcolm turned, he inhaled sharply. Dani was at the end of the dock, on her knees. And Joslynn stood next to her, aiming a gun at the back of her head. When he was about twenty feet away from them, Joslynn spoke. 

“That’s close enough.” 

Malcolm’s eyes never left Dani. And his gun remained pointed at Joslynn.

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

The tape had been removed from Dani’s mouth, but her hands were still bound behind her. She tilted her head slightly and rolled her eyes as if to say, “Not really.” Her stare lingered on his wrapped forearm, “Are you?” 

His bottom lip jutted out in a nothing-to-worry-about nod. 

Joslynn took the opportunity to join their conversation, “Yes. How are we feeling, Malcolm? A little itchy? Got the shakes? Migraines? Pain in the abdomen?” 

He refused to encourage her banter and simply glared at her down the sight of his weapon.

“Did you use the third dose yet?” 

Reflexively, he lowered his gaze, only for a second. But, that was all Joslynn needed. 

“Oh, you did. Three doses in three days. So, you’re  _ really _ feeling it right now aren’t you? Your drug test come back yet?” 

“We both know I wouldn’t be standing here if it did,” he replied. 

“True.” 

They stood in silence for a moment, before Malcolm broke it, “Let Dani go. Take out your vengeance on me. She’s not responsible for what happened to Ezra. I am.” 

“I’m well aware of that,” Joslynn seethed. “You’re both here because I just can’t decide who I want to watch bleed out on this dock. Killing Dani is obviously the option that causes you the most misery. See, I know a little something about the person you love being murdered. Being ripped away from you,” her free hand went to her pregnant belly, “From our unborn son. You deserve worse than death Malcolm Bright. You deserve to watch the woman you love take her last breath, knowing you’re the reason she’s gone. You deserve to live the rest of your life with that gut wrenching anguish.” 

His pulse quickened as he frantically tried to think of a way to stop her before she could pull the trigger. 

“On the other hand, the thought of you walking this Earth when Ezra is in the ground makes me violently ill. I’m not sure that’s something I can live with for the rest of my life.”

She raised her arm, aiming the gun at Malcolm now. Dani turned her body slightly, her eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them. 

“You got one in the chamber?” Joslynn inquired, curiously. 

“Yep.” Malcolm held his position, his hands uncharacteristically steady. 

“Me too,” she smiled. “And we both know mine’s bigger than yours.” 

He knew exactly what the poor attempt at innuendo was referencing. 

“How’s your lieutenant? Did he survive?”

Dani’s head whipped in Malcolm’s direction, her eyes the size of saucers. “Gil?”

He wouldn’t risk taking his eyes off of Joslynn. He didn’t enjoy revealing any information to her either, but Dani deserved a response. “He was in surgery when I left.” 

“Before we do this,” Joslynn began, ignoring their concern, “I just want to know one thing.” She shifted her aim back toward Dani. To her forehead, since she had moved her position. “Did you intend to kill Ezra when you came here that night? Answer truthfully and Dani can go.” 

Malcolm looked at Dani, only for a second, then back at Joslynn. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you’ll keep that bargain.” 

Joslynn pulled a knife from her pocket, stepped behind Dani, and cut her wrist restraints, taking care to keep the gun against her head to ensure her compliance. “There.” 

Malcolm accepted the gesture, “He shot Dani in the back. I thought she’d died in my arms.”

“Did you come here knowing you were going to kill my husband? Yes or no?”

He licked his lips before softly replying, “Yes.” 

She didn’t look at Dani when she barked her command, “Go.”

“I’m not leaving,” she replied defiantly. 

“Get out of here, Dani,” Malcolm ordered. When she didn’t move a muscle he cursed under his breath. 

Tears spilled down Joslynn’s cheeks, but her voice was steady when she spoke. “You know what this bullet is going to do to you at this range, Malcolm.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement of fact. “You're a cold-blooded killer, right? Here’s your chance to finish off the rest of the Bennet family. And save yourself.” She held her arms open, completely unprotected. “You have five seconds to shoot me or I’m shooting you.” 

Dani stared in horror. Joslynn closed her eyes. 

“Five.” 

Malcolm’s pulse skyrocketed. 

“Four.” 

His breaths were shallow and quick. 

“Three.” 

His hands were steady. 

“Two” 

Because, he knew he had no intention of pulling the trigger. He couldn’t shoot a pregnant woman, regardless of the repercussions. His eyes met Dani’s and she knew. 

“One”

Joslynn opened her eyes and she sneered, “I knew you didn’t have it in you.” She hesitated for only a second, then raised her arm, “I do.” 

Malcolm never looked away from Dani. He tried his best to convey everything she meant to him in one look. To silently tell her how much he loved her. 

“NYPD!” 

He turned his head at the sound of JT’s voice. 

Then, his entire body jerked. Dani’s scream echoed in his head as he fell backward. 

And everything went black. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Tinkerbrittt made another trailer! It hits the last half of Under and then this fic too. It’s amazing! You should watch it! 
> 
> https://youtu.be/3HuoNdn_TRU

_ Thump-thump _ . 

Voices, muffled. Frantic commotion. 

_ Thump-thump _ . 

Total darkness alternated with bright light and indistinct moving shapes. 

_ Thump-thump _ . 

The darkness was peaceful, inviting, calm. The lights brought with them agony the likes of which he’d never experienced before. 

But  _ she _ was there. 

_ Thump-thump _ . 

He couldn’t distinguish her voice from the others, but he could sense her there with him. He knew he was being touched, but he couldn’t physically comprehend it. His chest felt like a boulder rested on the center, pressing excruciatingly hard on his sternum. Every breath was a battle, each one becoming more and more difficult. 

“Malcolm?!” 

_ Thump-thump _ . 

_ Dani _ . 

For one single second her voice rose above the chaos and pain. 

He willed his eyes to find her, but they weren’t in his control. Multiple dark, shapeless figures moved in and out of what little vision he had.

The lights flickered, the shapes fading in and out of reality. 

_ Thump _ . 

They vanished completely. The darkness engulfed him like a warm blanket. It banished the boulder on his chest. Fear and worry fled from it. An overwhelming serenity spread throughout him, as all consciousness dissolved into non existence.

* * *

“You have five seconds to shoot me or I’m shooting you.” 

Dani’s stomach lurched at the ultimatum. She tried to read Malcolm’s response to it. 

“Five.” 

She contemplated going for Joslynn’s gun. But it was too risky, given she had just admitted to it being loaded with the remaining armor-piercing cartridge.

“Four.” 

_ What’s the play, Malcolm? What are we doing? _

“Three” 

The look in his eyes shifted completely. The hardness, the determination faded. As he looked at her, the only thing she could see was utter adoration and love. 

“Two” 

Her chest tightened. Fear froze her, prevented her from breaking their eye contact, not that she would have anyway.

_ He won’t risk the baby.  _

“One.”

Dani’s heart was pounding so hard it took her breath. 

“I knew you didn’t have it in you.” Joslynn’s arm rose quickly, “I do.” 

Malcolm stared into Dani’s very soul, bearing his own to her as he did. 

“NYPD!” 

JT’s voice broke their trance and Malcolm turned his head. For less than a second, relief washed over her. In that fraction of a moment, she thought they were saved, that for once, everything was going to work out the way it needed to. 

Even though she was kneeling right next to Joslynn, Dani saw Malcolm’s body jerk before she heard the shot.

His head whipped around and his eyes met hers. Then, he fell backward onto the dock with a nauseating thud. 

A bone-chilling scream filled the air - the sound of absolute suffering and anguish. It took a second for Dani to realize it was coming from her. She rushed to Malcolm’s side, as JT and the other officers sprinted down the dock. 

Dani heard a splash, but didn’t bother looking up. It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered but Malcolm. His head moved almost imperceptibly, as his eyes rolled back, the crystal blue that still captivated her disappearing. 

“Malcolm!” 

Even though the thought terrified her to her core, Dani forced herself to look down. 

_ Oh, God. _

Her hands flew to the wound, or rather where she assumed the wound was beneath Malcolm’s vest and the plethora of blood. 

“16 squad central, this is Tarmel. We need a bus. Officer down. 159 Bridge Park Drive, dock four.” JT checked Malcolm’s neck for a pulse. 

_ Why didn’t I do that? _ Dani thought.

“He has a pulse. GSW with armor-piercing ammo. About three inches left of center, his left. Close to navel line.” JT knelt on the other side of the profiler. 

“Malcolm! Please!” Dani begged. Blood seeped out of the hole in his vest, covering her fingers. “This isn’t doing anything. We have to get this vest off!” 

JT pulled a knife out of his pocket and carefully cut the shoulder straps of the vest. Dani’s hands were so coated in his blood that she couldn’t get a grip on the velcro on her side. She cursed, and wiped them off on her jeans, before finally getting the side straps open. They gingerly picked the vest up off of Malcolm. 

Dani gasped. Both Malcolm’s shirt and pants were dark to begin with, but they were still obviously saturated. When her hands found the wound this time, the fabric of his shirt squished as she pressed down, more crimson liquid covering her hands. 

“Bright?!” JT tried to rouse him, as Dani pushed until her arms ached. “Shit, Dani I’ve got no pulse.” 

“What?”

“He’s not breathing either. Emerson! Put pressure on this!” 

Dani understood the plan and she allowed the officer to take her place while she moved up to Malcolm’s head. Again, she wiped her hands on her jeans, but it did little to clean them. When she bent his head back, Malcolm’s own blood on her hands streaked his hair and chin. 

JT started compressions, counting as he went. The faint sounds of sirens crept achingly slow toward them. 

“Go,” JT ordered. 

Dani gave two breaths to Malcolm and her partner started again. 

“Please don’t leave me,” she begged. “I need you, Malcolm.” 

“Go.” 

Two breaths. 

She caressed his cheek with her stained thumb, tears flowing down her own. “I love you,” she whispered. 

“Go!” 

Two breaths. 

“They’re here,” Emerson declared. The EMTs sprinted toward them, their footsteps shaking the dock. 

When they reached them Dani stood, backing only just far enough to give the medics the room they needed. 

“How long ago did we lose the pulse?” 

“Just over a minute,” JT answered, walking around to Dani. 

When she had the chance to step back and truly see Malcolm, a frigid dread took hold of her chest and spread out to her extremities, slowly freezing her in place. The sight of his limp body being moved to the board stole her breath. The abundance of blood that covered his torso, that painted the dock beneath him, was horrifying. She’d never seen anyone survive that much blood loss. 

She’d  _ never _ seen anyone survive that much blood loss. 

Just as her knees began to buckle, JT grabbed her around the waist, holding her up. “Not yet,” he said, helping her walk as they followed the rushing medics down the dock. “He’s still here.” 

Dani repeated the mantra as though doing so would keep Malcolm alive. 

It had to. 

* * *

Dani paced the waiting room, habitually checking her watch. 10:14. They’d been here for over three hours and the last she’d heard from anyone was when they told her she couldn’t follow them through the doors to surgery. JT was looking at his phone, absentmindedly scrolling through news articles, when he got a text. She looked up expectantly, then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. The hospital wouldn’t be texting updates to JT. 

“News about Gil?” she asked, hopefully?

He looked up at her after reading it, “I wish. No one at the hospital will say anything. Which I get, but it’s annoying. I told a few of the guys to get over there a while ago. I haven’t heard back from them. For all we know he could still be in surgery too, depending on how severe it was. 

The thought of Gil needing to be in surgery for four hours was terrifying. But, they were over three so far with Malcolm, so she guessed that wasn’t exactly a leap. 

“Joslynn’s been processed,” JT informed her reading the message, “D.A. is pushing for no bail.” 

She nodded, and sat down next to him. 

“Was she the splash I heard?” Dani remembered registering the sound but was so focused on Malcolm that she never bothered to look. 

“Oh, yeah. She jumped and tried to swim away when she saw us coming. After…,” He caught himself and didn’t finish the sentence. JT watched her as she stared at the ground in front of her feet, picking at her cuticles nervously. “He’s gonna make it,” he assured. 

She sniffed and wiped her nose, “You saw him, JT. All that blood.” Her voice was monotone, practically lifeless.

“They’ll give him blood. That doesn’t matter.” 

“We’re cops. We’ve seen some horrific things. But, that. When have we ever seen someone recover from something like that?” 

“Today. Today is when we’ve seen someone recover from that. End of story.” 

Tears dripped onto her stained jeans. Then she raised her head to look at her partner, “How can you be so sure?” 

“Because I’ve seen the way Bright looks at you. It’s the same way I look at Tally. You’re his everything. And he will walk through hellfire to come back to you, if that’s what he has to do. Every minute you don’t hear from them, is another minute we know he’s still fighting in there. He’s still here, Dani.” 

“He’s still here,” she whispered. 

A few minutes passed, the two of them sitting in comfortable silence. 

Dani broke it by turning and staring at JT, her brows furrowed.

“What?” he asked perplexed. 

“How did you get out of those zip ties in the car?” 

He sighed and looked around to make sure the other people in the waiting room weren’t paying attention. “I head butted the horn until someone came to help me.” 

Dani couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image. 

“People in this city are way too tolerant sometimes. It was a good fifteen minutes before someone finally stepped over to the car.” 

She bit her cheek, trying not to smile, “They probably thought you were some crazy person having a psychotic break.” 

Ten minutes later she stood up abruptly, “Okay, I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to see if someone can give me an update.” 

JT nodded. 

While Dani was on her mission the officer who’d helped them with Malcolm, Emerson, entered through the sliding doors of the entrance. He found JT and inquired about Bright’s condition. 

“We don’t know yet. Still in surgery. What’s up?” 

“So, I didn’t want to text you this on the off chance that,” he looked over his shoulder and around the room, “Dani would see it.” 

“What now?”

“Other than confirming her personal information, Joslynn wouldn’t say a thing to anyone. She said the only person she would talk to is Powell.” 

“That’s not happening,” JT growled. 

Emerson held his hands up in defense, “Oh, I know. We told her that. And she held out for a while.” 

Dani turned the corner from the restroom and saw the officer talking to JT. She immediately backed up and eavesdropped on the conversation. 

Emerson continued, “But when she finally understood that there was no way we were bringing Dani to her, she told us to give her a message.” 

“Which was?” The detective crossed his arms, clearly over Joslynn’s antics. 

“She said to tell her: Now you know.” 

Dani slowly closed her eyes. 

_ You’re going to learn how utterly devastating that feels.  _

As quietly as she could, Dani ran back to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She broke out in a cold sweat, and leaned over the sink, bracing herself.

_ What if he doesn’t make it? _ She thought.

Images from the past few months flashed before her eyes. A slideshow of moments that might be all she would ever get. 

Malcolm disassembling Damian’s gun. 

The look in his eyes as they pressed against each other on Bennet’s desk.

Malcolm’s voice mixed with the visions. 

_ I can make it if I run. I’ll meet you on the platform. Can you do that?  _

_ I can’t sit back and let Damian and Bennet do God knows what to the woman I--. _

Dani’s knees buckled at the last memory. The day she found out he was in love with her. That night’s events scrolled by in a heady play by play. 

_ You’re what I want. _

Their bodies entangled as their panting increased. 

Malcolm’s appeal for her climax. 

_ I love you, Dani.  _

She started to hyperventilate. It felt like her ribcage was squeezing her heart and lungs, strangling the life out of them. Her hands shook uncontrollably and the room started to tilt. When it did, Dani heard a knock on the door.

“Powell?” 

She couldn’t get enough air to respond. 

“Open the door, Dani.” 

Her head fell back against the wall and she sobbed between gasps for breath. 

“Powell, you have one minute before I bust down this door!”

She turned her head and stared at the knob, unmoving. What did it matter? Nothing mattered without him. 

“Ten seconds.” JT warned. 

She reached up and flipped the lock. Then sat back, eyes forward, practically catatonic.

When he peeked in and found her on the floor, tears streaming down her face, JT stepped in and seated himself next to her. He didn’t say anything. Instead he sat there next to her, in supportive silence. After a minute or two, Dani slowly leaned to the side, and rested her head on his shoulder. 

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Dani had worked through her breakdown, and cleaned herself up a bit, before returning to the waiting room. She was exhausted. They both were. But sleep wasn’t anywhere within the realm of possibility. 

JT’s phone rang and he practically jumped out of his seat after answering it. “Yes, give me one second to step outside.”

Dani watched him exit the doors anxiously. Mercifully, he returned in only a few short minutes. 

“That was Jessica. She’s been with Gil this whole time. Apparently he’s been out of surgery for almost an hour. Docs are saying he’s not out of the woods yet, but the surgery went well.” 

“Did you tell her about Malcolm?” Dani asked. 

“Parts. She’s had horrible service in the hospital. She said she went for a cup of coffee and her phone blew up. I didn’t want to tell her over the phone, but I didn’t really have much of a choice. Didn’t go into a lot of detail. Just that Bright had been shot and was in surgery. She said she was going to get her driver to bring her here.” 

“That’s good.” 

At that moment, a doctor slowly walked into the waiting room, still wearing his cap and mask. A few expectant faces watched him intently as he scanned the room. “Bright?” 

Somehow, Dani managed to stand. The doctor noticed and approached them, asking that they follow him to the consultation room. Bile rose up her throat, it soured her mouth, as they sat in the chairs and the doctor closed the door behind them. 

“I’m Doctor Farrell. We met very briefly when you got here a few hours ago.” 

Dani couldn’t stand the formalities, immediately she blurted out, “Is he alive?” 

“Yes.” 

Relief washed over her like warm sunshine. Tears of joy welled in her eyes. 

“I’d like to apologize for the lack of information while you were waiting. That wasn’t intentional. Things got… intense a few times. He had a few episodes that surprised us a little. But he’s a fighter.” 

Dani couldn’t keep from smiling, “Yeah. He is.” 

Dr. Farrell opened a file and pulled out x rays. “The bullet went through his vest, which initialized the fragmenting of the point. When it entered here,” he pointed at Malcolm’s lower abdomen, “it pierced multiple points in the small intestine. We ended up taking eleven inches of it out and reconnecting. 

JT’s mouth fell open, “Is that even possible?” 

“With the small intestine, yes. Thankfully, there’s almost 23 feet of it in most adults, so it’s really not that horrible - despite how it sounds. The blood loss made the surgery tricky for us, but we adapted as best we could.” 

“When can I see him?” Dani asked. 

“Shortly. His vitals are stabilizing still. He’s going to be in ICU for the time being until we’re more comfortable with his numbers. We will know more once he’s awake and communicate with us.” 

“When will that be?” 

“Based solely on anesthesia, any time in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. But, we have to remember, his body has been through a massive trauma. We had to give him four pints of blood.” 

The number made Dani’s stomach lurch. 

“But, he fought through.” 

Dani smiled, and breathed a sigh of relief once more, “He’s still here.” 

* * *

Intermittent beeping. 

At first it blended into his dreams, not that he remembered any of them. Given his track record, not remembering was far better than the alternative. Malcolm tried to open his eyes. He was in control of them, but the lids were incredibly heavy, and caked together. The thought of lifting his arm to wipe it was in itself exhausting. His body was depleted. There wasn’t even enough strength left for him to groan. He put all he had into getting his eyes open. Slowly, they separated and he immediately closed them back. The room was too bright. 

He blinked a few times in rapid succession, trying to help acclimate to the light. 

And then he saw her. 

Dani was curled up in the chair by his bed, a tangled mess of legs and arms. Her elbow rested on her knee and her head lay on her hand. She had dozed off. 

Malcolm took a moment to appreciate the fact that he had just woken up. He didn’t know all the details of what had happened, but he knew what he’d been shot with. And the likelihood of him surviving it was next to nothing. Waking up to this particular view, was just icing on the cake. 

His lips curled up into a crooked grin. 

“Da--” his throat was raspy. Malcolm cleared it and tried again, “Dani.” It came out meeker than he’d hoped, but it got the job done. She jerked awake, took one look at him, and leapt from the chair. 

“Malcolm!” She took his hand and caressed his cheek. 

“Hey,” he smiled. 

“How do you feel?” 

His stomach was on fire and his entire body ached from top to bottom. 

“Like I got run over by a steam roller,” he winced, as he tried to prop himself up. 

“No, no, no. Stitches. Use the remote to adjust. I need to tell them you’re awake.” She rushed out of the room and to the nurse’s station. 

They checked his vitals and informed them both that the doctor would be coming to see him very soon. 

Once the room was cleared again, Dani let him know that his mom and sister had just gone home for the night. 

Malcolm nodded, then scrunched his eyebrows, contemplating whether or not he should ask something. 

“What?” Dani inquired. 

“How bad was it?”

She stared at him and swallowed, unable to put description to the feelings. Instead she tried to relay medical facts. 

“The bullet hit your lower left abdomen, although you probably feel that. There was,” she cleared her throat, as her voice broke, “there was a lot of blood. Um, Dr. Farrell said they had to give you four pints.” 

“Shit.” 

Dani nodded. “They removed eleven inches of your small intestine and reconnected. The bullet,” again her voice cracked and she took a second to compose herself, “did what it was made to do.” 

So, it wasn’t just that he almost died. The fact that he was laying here breathing was nothing short of a miracle. 

And he wasn’t the first of them to take one of those bullets.

When he realized that he didn’t know his father’s fate, “Gil?”, was all he could manage to say. 

“He made it through surgery. It sounds like he’s got a much tougher road ahead of him than you do, but he’s through the first phase.” 

He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the pillow. Dr. Farrell came in a few minutes later to check on him, discuss the procedure, and relay expectations for hospital stay and recovery. 

“Because it’s your digestive system, we need to be sure that everything’s filtering and functioning correctly before we release you. So, depending on that and how your body is handling… everything else, I’m estimating a minimum of four days with us here. We will see how things go. Okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you. So much.” 

“You’re very welcome.” 

Malcolm watched the doctor leave, eyeing him until he was out of sight of the room window. Once he was far enough away, Malcolm laid his head back and sighed, “So, they know I’m detoxing.” 

“They do,” Dani confirmed, “The doc hinted at it when he talked to us after surgery. Said you had a few ‘episodes’ on the table.” 

“What happens now?” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, “Are they going to cuff me the minute I’m released?” 

“I don’t see how. Sure, they can recognize the signs of detox. But heroin, speedball those would’ve metabolized out of your system eight hours after each dose. There’s nothing they can do about it legally anyway. Maybe they can give you something to help with it.” 

“Speaking of giant axes dangling over my head, what’s going on with Michaels?”

“We sent two units to his place shortly after you went into surgery. He wasn’t there, shocker. Brass has a warrant and put a BOLO out for him in all surrounding states. He can’t fly, he can’t cross the border, and he can’t use a credit card. The Niners aren’t nationally affiliated, either. Chris won’t stay hidden for long. 

“So, the drug test results should be thrown out?” 

“Looks that way.” 

Malcolm allowed himself to smile, to feel hope, for the first time in weeks, he actually felt like they had a shot at surviving this, at happiness. 

“So, then that just leaves one thing.” 

“Oh?” Dani eyed him speculatively. 

“Well, my apartment is burned. And your apartment is burned,” he looked at her the way a child looks at a present they have to wait to open, excitement glistening in his eyes. “So, I was thinking maybe we could get a new place. Together.” 

“What?” 

“I love you, Dani. And if this entire saga has taught me anything, it’s that life is far too fleeting to wait, when you know what you want. If you’re not ready yet that’s totally fine and it doesn’t change how I feel. But if you are, I’d love to find a place with you. And make it ours.” 

She stood up, leaned over the railing of the bed, and carefully kissed him. 

“That sounds wonderful.” 

* * *

As soon as Malcolm was released from the hospital, he demanded Dani take him to see his father. She wanted to argue, only because Malcolm was supposed to be very limited in his movements. But, she knew how important it was to him and gave the two men a moment together alone. He was grateful she did, because the minute Gil saw him and said, “Hey, kid,” he completely broke down. The two embraced as best they could with their respective injuries, as Dani wiped a tear in the hallway. 

In the three weeks that followed, and much to his chagrin, Malcolm and Dani stayed at his mother’s. It was too risky to stay at either of their apartments, and she had the means to keep both of them comfortable as well as an incredibly helpful staff. Malcolm supervised Dani and the movers as they gradually packed both apartments. Jessica split her time between her home and Gil’s, who had been released to home care. 

One afternoon, Dani came bouncing in from work, dying to tell Malcolm some happy news. 

“What is it?” he laughed. She reminded him of Ainsley when she got her first pony. 

“You’re not going to believe this. As soon as you’re medically cleared, you’re allowed to return to work.” 

“Are you serious? How?” If he had the ability to jump up from his chair, he would’ve. 

“The judge waived the remainder of your deferred sentence at the request of Captain Martinez. Your record’s officially clean.” 

She was right; he couldn’t believe it. The two of them celebrated the rest of the day, culminating in their evening ritual: a sunset walk around the neighborhood. 

Ten days later, Malcolm stood in the center of his empty apartment. He slowly turned, taking it all in one final time. So much had happened here. And despite it all, the positives vastly outweighed the negatives. While a part of him was sad to leave, another part was grateful for the opportunity to start anew. He and Dani found a perfect apartment in the West Village. She’d insisted on two bedrooms in addition to an office, at which he raised an eyebrow. 

“Something I should know?” He jested. 

“No,” she smacked his shoulder playfully, “but if there ever were to be. You know, down the road. Then we wouldn’t have to move again.” 

The fact that she had thought about them having a child together, melted him completely. He couldn’t help but picture her, rounded belly and glowing, decorating a nursery. Nothing had made him happier in his entire life. 

Dani pushed the already cracked door of the loft open. “You okay?” 

Malcolm turned toward her and smiled, “Yeah.” 

He walked over to the counter and laid the keys on the granite, tapping them lovingly before stepping back. He wrapped his arm around Dani and the two took one last look at the place where they’d spent their first days together. 

She reached up and kissed him, then held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.” 

Malcolm took it, following her to the door. He turned and grabbed the knob, as they exited. A smile slowly crept across his face and he closed the door. 

It was finally over. 


End file.
